An Unlikely Alliance (Co-written with spiderclone51)
by leafs nation
Summary: Max Caulfield is still getting used to the strange circumstances that have unfolded during her brief stint at Blackwell Academy. A missing girl, secret plots within the town, time reversal powers... things are getting pretty chaotic for the teen. But things only get weirder when a mysterious girl shows up in the town; sparking a series of events that'll change their lives forever.
1. A new friend or foe?

_Please be decent this time… _she thinks to herself desperately as she leans up against a random locker; ignoring the blurs of teens rushing past her up and down the hallway at speeds so quick that you'd think they'd all be training for marathons. The weekend has just arrived, so everyone's chatting it up with their friends about some dope party that they're planning on attending, or whether or not they're going to end up finding a costume in time for the big dance that's coming in a week's time.

Well… _almost _everyone.

Max Caulfield doesn't exactly have anything planned for the immediate future; not exactly psyched at the prospect of getting piss drunk and waking up on some stranger's couch or worse. She's what you might call an oddball, yet that category has been stretched out a little thin at this place. Blackwell Academy is notorious for attracting more of the artsy crowd, so usually she feels as though she could just fit right in.

Then again, with the past couple of weeks she's been having, you could definitely infer that Max isn't even normal for these standards. Rewinding time kind of has a way of fucking with whatever personal identity you may have had previously.

But right now, the eighteen year old girl (or fully grown, mature woman, as she'd have people believe) isn't as concerned with this power as she is with opening this damn envelope. Preliminary report cards are enough to make even the most confident of students develop at least a little bit of anxiety.

Getting rudely told to piss off as she quickly maneuvers out of a girl's way, Max slides her fingers delicately over the package before immediately ripping the flap open. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she slides the piece of paper out and takes a tiny peak at some of the marks.

Photography – A.

Gym – B-

Literary Studies – B+

Algebra – D

"Fuck…" she swears as she registers the mark in her head; ignoring the rest as she scrunches the dastardly report into a tight ball before walking over to the nearest recycling bin. Looks as though Mom and Dad won't be seeing how their star child is faring in the grades department until December.

The teen nearly makes it all the way there, when a stern and lecturing voice pretty much causes her to freeze on the spot.

"I see what you've got there, Max," Mr. Jefferson remarks with a knowing glance as he leans outside his classroom doorframe. The man's a complete genius when it comes to photography, with his work being something that Max, at least in her mind, can only aspire to be within her dreams. Why he'd bother to teach a bunch of pretentious punks like many of the students around here still boggles her mind, but to each their own. She's never been one to judge somebody's personal preferences. "I think we both know you should keep that report card – we hand them out to you guys for a reason, you know."

Grinning sheepishly in his direction, Max shrugs as she tries to smooth out the creases upon her leg; settling to hiding the blasted thing behind her back when that doesn't work. "Just, uh… got a little ticked at some of the classes, that's all," she excuses herself, though it doesn't do much to dissuade the teacher. If anything, he seems to be even less impressed with this response than he was upon catching her in the middle of the act.

Keeping her head down as the king of douche bags, Mr. Nathan Prescott, comes strolling by and undoubtedly gives her one of his now-infamous death glares, Max rubs her arm in major discomfort. The events in the bathroom with Chloe are still fresh in her mind, and even though she was able to keep it from happening, the shock of her friend dying in such a gruesome way was still enough to shake the girl to her core. However, much to her dismay, her attempts at bringing the asshole to justice have largely gone unsuccessfully.

In hindsight, Max really thinks that she should've expected this kind of an outcome, seeing's how the Prescott's are the town's wealthiest and most influential family around. No wonder the accusations went unheard – the principal was probably laughing behind her back after she has mentioned the crime to him.

The fact that she's practically getting harassed by both Nathan and his father haven't done much to ease her anxieties as of late.

"…Max? Did you hear me?"

"Huh? What?" she stumbles back into reality, having been lost in her thoughts for about the billionth time.

Adjusting his glasses so that they fit more snuggly upon the bridge of his nose, Mr. Jefferson walks towards her as the last of the kids exit the building. "I asked if you planned on handing in that photograph for the contest. The world's not going to wait around for you in real life, you know," he advises; unintentionally making the girl feel a little uncomfortable under his stare. The guy's pretty kind when he wants to be, but boy does he know how to bring on the guilt trips. "There's no need to be shy about it – photography is an art in and of itself, remember? And art should be shared among the masses so that they too can recognize its beauty for themselves – not hidden away and sitting there with wasted potential. You've got a gift here, Max. Don't be afraid to pursue it."

Finding herself more inspired (and yet, oddly intimidated at the same time) by Mark Jefferson every day, Max quickly nods and mumbles a thank you before placing the report card back into her bag and speed-walking down the hall. How much more embarrassing could it get than being confronted by an idolized professional?

Oh that's right – if said guy is also your high school teacher.

Watching until she opens the metal doors and steps out into the autumn weather, Mr. Jefferson smirks before shaking his head. _She's going places, _he thinks to himself as he bends down and studies a fallen poster of Rachel Amber – the girl whose been missing for some months now. He still can't understand how something like this could've possibly happened in such a small town like this.

How could one person have befallen such a terrible fate?

* * *

"So… you're not bullshitting me right now? This is seriously happening? You're not just super high or anything?"

"Yeah, Chloe – for the hundredth time, _yes_!"

"Ok, alright! Geez! Sorry for being just a little bit sceptical that my old friend suddenly shows up after five years and claims she has fucking super powers…" Chloe murmurs, with the small smirk underlying her face telling Max that she's just kidding around. There's nothing normal or average about this, sure – but honestly, she can't really blame the blue-haired, rebellious teen to be at least _a little _bit sceptical. "Anyways," she continues, looking much more interested than before, "if this is actually legit, then this might just be the coolest thing I've ever heard of! Max, you could go down in history for this shit!"

Taking a slurp out of the iced coffee that she had bought earlier, Max absentmindedly leans back on the bench as she tries to sort her mess of a life together. If someone had told her a month prior that she'd be able to essentially control time whenever she wanted, and that she'd occasionally be having visions of a massive storm that was spinning out of control, she'd probably tell you to go find your nearest shrink en pronto.

Is she just crazy, or is all of this happening to her for a reason? Is there more to this gift (or curse, depending on how you look at it) than she rightly knows or even understands?

Feeling a hand resting on top of her head as she's forced to turn around, Max looks over at Chloe as she waves her other hand in front of her face. "You're spacing out over there like nobody's business," she remarks, chuckling before taking another toke of weed. The place there at is pretty desolate, with nobody really except some of the skater boys from Blackwell ever coming around. Usually they're as high as kites themselves. "Come on, don't be so worried about it! Life's too short, Max! Do you know how much cool shit we can do with this?!"

"This is serious – how aren't you getting that?! I don't know the first thing about time travel, Chloe! What if this ends up hurting me somehow?! Or worse?!" Max questions, getting more worked up about the potential consequences by the second. This kind of thing can't just be a coincidence – nobody has supernatural powers, so why the hell can she do this sort of thing? "…three weeks ago I was just trying not to flunk out of Blackwell. Now you're back in my life, I've got people making threats everywhere I go, and now I can suddenly control time. So much has changed in such a short period…"

Frowning in slight concern, Chloe struggles to try and come up with an explanation that would be enough to satisfy her doubts. But how can she in this situation? There's no logical explanation for any of these events that she can fully comprehend; no answers that she can come up with other than some _destiny _bullshit that'll probably get shot down immediately.

Settling on giving her the only honest answer she can manage, Chloe inhales the last of the drug before flicking the paper to the ground and smooshing it underneath her boot. "I've got no clue why this would be happening to you," she remarks as Max sighs deeply, "…but maybe you should just keep using it for the time being, you know? For better or worse, you've been given something amazing here. You'll drive yourself crazy if you try to just ignore something this huge, so why not make the most out of your situation?"

"…so your _sage advice_," Max concludes sarcastically, "is for me to quit whining about it and just bend time whenever I want?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Geez, Chloe… you are… unbelieve… ugh…" Max trails off as a massive migraine starts to cloud her vision; overcoming her cognitive functioning as black dots start to appear before her very eyes.

The last thing that she hears is Chloe's panicked swearing as the girl hits the ground in an unconscious state.

* * *

…_urgh… God damn it, where am I? _Max wonders; her question almost immediately answered as she feels the cold rain and harsh winds slamming against her body once again. It's always the same vision with her laying face-first in the dirt, standing up to full height and heading up the same hill to find the same busted lighthouse.

But something about this particular trip seems… different. Significantly so.

Groggily wiping her eyes as she collects her bearings, the first thing that Max spots is a large doe just watching her from in between the trees. The animal doesn't seem frightened by the teen's presence, and in fact almost seems as though it wants her to follow along.

Doing as her instincts tell her, since usually within these she can pretty much recognize the signs of what's to come, Max shields her face from the elements as she squints her eyes and tries to keep up with the doe as it scurries ahead. When that same familiar bolt of lightning strikes down the tree and starts collapsing directly towards her, Max manages to hold out her hand at precisely the right moment; bringing time to an abrupt standstill.

_I'm not dying today – not like this, _Max promises herself as she reverses the clock and quickly maneuvers out of harm's way; tracking the doe down again as she races to the top of the hill.

Even after seeing it a few times at this point, the massive tornado forming out in the distance still boasts a terrifying presence, even more so since Max can tell that it's coming sooner than they might think. She doesn't know the exact date of when it will hit, but if it's anything like the destructive force that this baby's exhibiting, then there may be a lot more to be concerned about then the antics going on at Blackwell Academy. Hundreds of lives could very well be at stake here, and yet only she is able to know that for sure.

By the time it comes to fruition, it may be too late to save everyone.

Suddenly, the illusive doe stops when it reaches the top of the hill; standing completely still as yet another teenage girl appears within the vision. It's difficult to tell what she looks like from this distance, so Max carefully moves forward to see what all of this could possibly mean. Will this mystery person have the answers she seeks? Could she possibly know why all of this time phenomenon is going on?

"H-hello?!" Max hollers out, getting no response as the girl lightly brushes her fingers against the doe's head. Panic erupts within Max as the top of the lighthouse breaks off and comes crashing towards the two of them, but the girl doesn't even move as it sails right over her head. It's almost as if she didn't even notice the thing at all. "Can you hear me?! Hello there?! Who… who are you?!"

There's nothing particularly striking about the girl, other than the fact that she's wearing black jeans and shoes with a blue hooded sweater overtop of her purple long-sleeved shirt. The doe flicks its ears back and forth and darts away into thin air as Max finally comes within talking distance, but still the girl hasn't moved an inch.

Doing the only reasonable gesture that she can think of, Max cautiously reaches out her hand as she taps the stranger on the shoulder, when finally some small amount of movement occurs.

Watching as the girl lowers her hood, Max finally gets something distinctive with the newcomer – two pigtails at the back accompanied by a white and blue ball cap with a big 'D' stamped on the front of it. Turning around, the girl's yellowish eyes throw Max off for a second as she stares directly at her; capturing her gaze for a few seconds.

Suddenly, the unthinkable happens.

Largely resembling that problem in the bathroom, the strange girl pulls a loaded gun from her pocket and holds it out in front of her; firing two shots at Max before the teen can even utter a sound.

* * *

"…M…ax? Come on now, wake up! You've gotta stay awake here, alright?! Stay with me!" Chloe tilts her friend's chin up with worry capturing her in an iron grip. Temporary relief overcomes her when Max finally does reopen her eyes, but the blood running down her nose isn't an encouraging sign. "Holy shit, kid! Are you trying to give me a heart attack over here?!"

Giving her at least a little bit of breathing room and offering up some of her water bottle, Chloe eases up a little bit with how frightened and confused her friend seems to be. Max had been unconscious for at least half an hour, and she pretty much had to drag the girl behind a dumpster from her arms just so that the skater kids wouldn't see. Taking her to the hospital seemed to be kind of out of the question, since then both of their parents would likely get called, and who knows what kind of questions they'd start to ask?

Waiting a minute or so for Max's breathing to return to a more normal state, Chloe bends on one knee in front of her in concern. "Was it one of those vision things again?" she questions, knowing her hunch was correct as Max shakily nods. "Oh man… this has to be connected with your time thing somehow, it just has to be! There's no way that these things are unrelated!"

Finding it hard to disagree, Max leans her head back up against the dumpster as she tries to remember everything that happened right there. It all felt so real, with the pain and shock of the gunfire almost becoming unbearable even if it was just a dream.

Or was it really a dream? And who was that girl anyways? Max certainly hasn't ever seen her around here before, or back in Seattle.

"So what happened in this one, then?" Chloe probes as Max instinctively grabs onto her stomach; sighing in relief as no bullet wounds have actually penetrated her system.

"Honestly," she states in total disbelief, "I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."


	2. Let's start over

_The flock of grievers gathered around the burial markers with a whole host of condolences – some from close friends from her childhood that'd give her a hug when they walked past, others being relatives who couldn't stop the endless flow of tears from cascading down their faces as they too said their goodbyes, some from people that she barely knew and only gave a passing glance at. The processions were over now, and it was time for the girl's parents to be laid to rest for all eternity._

_At least, that's what the pastor had them believe, although it was a pretty nice sentiment nonetheless. People have always preferred to have some manner of satisfaction when their loved ones have passed away._

_But no matter how many grievers came by to pay their respects, no matter how many times she had to say thank you for coming to the funeral… the girl couldn't find much in the way of peace. Not when both of her parents had been so violently mauled to death after having come home late one evening._

_William Carver would rot behind bars for the rest of his miserable days, but still she couldn't find solace in that fact. No manner of punishment for the crime would be able to bring her parents back to life. The sickening part was that the guy wasn't even that fazed by his deed – walking right up to the stand and shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. No apologies, no nothing. He simply told them that her parents were late paying debts from the loan sharks and that their drug money was well overdue, trying to imply that her Mom and Dad were both in the drug scene. _

_Nobody truly believed him, of course, but it was all the same to Carver. The girl wanted to shoot him right then and there._

_Eighteen year olds just entering into their last year of high school shouldn't have to put up with all of this, let alone a person at any age. She was emotionally exhausted and angry after the fact, but that call from her family friend, Kenny, pretty much destroyed whatever small amount of joy that she had left in her life. The girl remembered having dropped the phone to the hardwood floor after being woken up by the ring at nearly 3 AM, and the dark circles under her eyes revealed the insomnia and nightmares that had plagued her for the rest of that week. _

_But now she was all alone in the cemetery, save for the other occasional straggler who's come to visit the tombstones of people who they once cared for. Ed and Diana were cremated; their remains placed delicately in a jar and buried underground. Talk about truly being with each other for eternity…_

_The plaque that had been placed overtop to mark their resting place was really the last thing that she had to remember either of them by, and she had to drive twenty minutes or so just to come and visit. The place seemed peaceful enough, she supposed, with lush, grass-covered fields enshrouding the place along with some of the cherry blossom trees that would sprout up around this time of year just outside of Atlanta. It made the cemetery seem a lot more natural, as if those who have passed on in this world would be able to return to the earth they were born on and contribute to the growth of the next generation._

_All of this was so overwhelming and too much to take on at once. So, early one evening before the police had come over and tried to go through her parents' things, the girl snuck into the room and snatched up her Dad's cherished ball cap from the top of his dresser drawer._

_It would never go unused ever again._

"…Clem?"

Having done absolutely nothing other than counting the number of cars that they've passed (ninety-four, at last count), Clementine blankly tilts her head to the left as Lilly tries to drive and talk to the teen at the same time. She hasn't had much success on the talking front thus far, since lately Clementine's been tough to pry open with her solemn behaviour, but Lilly has yet to give up on her.

Mainly because she knows fully well that were the roles reversed, Clem would definitely be there for her as well.

"Hmm?" Clem deadpans, listening to some indie-rock music on the radio after having recently discovered her love for the genre. There was just something about the style that really got the girl's energy flowing, but for today it mostly just helped to ease the ache. She had memorized a whole bunch of albums over the summer when Sarah and Duck had been away, and once again her love of music had skyrocketed.

Swerving to avoid some oncoming traffic, Lilly speeds up a little bit as they both see the plane runway on the right hand side, with a large passenger aircraft taking off while the jet engines roar like thunder. "I was just… oh forget it. Nothing important."

"Lilly…"

"Are you sure that you wanna do this? Is this really what you want?" she suddenly asks, feeling unusually worried about the girl even though deep down they both know that she'll be just fine. Lilly's always had a bit of a soft spot for her, but usually this doesn't come out at all. "I mean… yeah, Lee's a great guy and all, and I've known him since you were in diapers. And I know he's your uncle and everything… but is this really what you want to do? So soon after…"

Cutting herself off and shaking her head with a frown, Lilly stops talking as she tries to get through the zoo of parked cars and pedestrians with big bags of luggage. Clementine sighs as she rubs her eyes and ignores a young child that has waved to her from outside her window. She's asked herself this very question about a billion times over now as well, and with almost every other answer she changes her mind from yes to no. Doubts have just creeped into her head and planted themselves inside of her brain at every turn – so many questions of what her future would be like out west, with an uncle whom she barely talks to, without her parents in her life, and pretty much leaving every single fragment of her old life behind.

Needless to say, despite having planned on heading out this way eventually anyways at some point, Clementine's a little bit nervous. But regardless of her anxiety and regret about leaving Atlanta in the dust, she knows that this is the right choice.

This is a chance for a new start; a new life where she can find her own place in the world. There's nothing really for her back in Atlanta anymore. It's time to find a new home.

Rolling to a stop near the airport entrance as the car gets parked in between a couple of taxi cabs, Lilly switches off the ignition and hesitates for a brief second; almost as if she just wants to turn this car around and just keep Clem under her roof instead. If she was a lot younger and less capable of making her own decisions, then that likely would've been the case.

But even Lilly knows that living with her and her father would be a handful for even the hardiest of souls.

"Let's umm… grab your stuff then," she murmurs as Clementine wordlessly steps out of the car and heading to the trunk with her hands in her pockets. Refusing to allow Clem to take the bags out, Lilly lifts the luggage and cringes at how light the girl's really packing on this long voyage. "…you're sure this is everything?"

Nodding as other families wave goodbye to their loved ones, Clementine shrugs in response as the wind picks up and chills right through her navy blue sweater. She didn't exactly have a whole lot of outfits to begin with, and most of her other clothes were far too small to wear. So, most of the stuff left inside the house is either going to the local thrift store when they eventually come to pick it up, or it's all going to be ripped apart by looters once they realize that the house is abandoned. Whatever works for them, really.

Standing at a crossroads, Lilly awkwardly offers her the bags as Clementine takes the carry-on bag and throws it over her shoulder as the zippers jingle and sway.

"Well," Lilly remarks as she glances into the double-doors up ahead, "I guess… this is it. For real, this time."

Instead of saying anything, the teen decides to break the awkward pauses as she drops the bag and wraps her arms tightly around the stoic woman; startling her until she eventually hugs her back and rubs her shoulder in comfort.

"Thank you…" comes Clementine's muffled reply as she speaks into Lilly's leather jacket, breaking the contact eventually as she leaves a couple of tear stains on her clothing. Lilly really doesn't mind this time, though – the past month has been nothing short of pure, unadulterated hell for the eighteen year old.

Watching her pick up the bags again and stare into her eyes once more, Lilly smiles wearily she prepares to take off in the car. "You take care of yourself, Clem. I mean that," she sternly advises; that cold yet caring attitude that Clementine's come to know coming back in full force. She never seems to skip a beat on noticing those kinds of things. "Now go on, get out of here… you've got a flight to catch."

* * *

Rolling her eyes open as she groggily yawns and stretches out her arms, accidentally bumping an old man sitting beside her as she quickly apologizes, Clementine tries to get the kinks out of her neck and her back – the result of having to sit in a cramped airplane seat for over five hours straight. They were a little delayed on the way over due to some turbulence (one of the least favourite things to hear when flying miles up in the air), but the destination should be coming up soon enough. The sooner that Clem gets off this damn plane, the better off she'll be.

So many questions fill her young mind as she glances out the window; spotting various buildings and cars that look like the size of ants from up here. What will she do once she finally settles in? Will she have to find some job to help Uncle Lee pay the bills?

"_Attention passengers – we will soon be arriving in Portland, Oregon. Please remember to bring all personal belongings with you, as Omid Airlines is not responsible for any lost or stolen items that you may lose track of. And unless you'd like Omid Airlines to personally toss your sorry asses out of a moving aircraft, we recommend that you obey the seatbelt safety signs and sit down until we land. Thank you for your cooperation, and we hope you have a wonderful day. Welcome to Portland!"_

"Finally…" Clementine mumbles under her breath as the plane starts to descend and her ears start to clog up. There's no real telling what'll be waiting for her once she gets to Arcadia Bay, but from what she's heard about the place, it seems to be a pretty quiet, little town. Not a whole lot of ruckus or trouble-making going down, and all in all a pretty uneventful dot on the map.

That ocean sounds like it'll be a main destination that she'll frequently come across in her travels, but Clem knows deep down that the most important thing is to get in and settle into her newfound surroundings. Rest and relaxation is going to have to take a back seat for now, at least.

Just as the plane's wheels touch down onto the tarmac below them, and the passengers clap for a job well done, Clementine feels her phone buzzing in her jean pocket. Curious to who'd be sending her a message, since Duck and Sarah are both likely still at school, she reaches down and pulls the cracked smartphone out to examine it; flicking the unlock button on as she reads the message.

_Congratulations _is the first title that she reads as her curiosity is piqued even further, and upon closer inspection, she can't help but feel a little bit of pride while reading the message in detail.

It seems that after months of waiting for a response, they finally sent back a reply that, under normal circumstances, would've made her dance around the room in happiness and excitement. Now though, the most she's able to muster up is a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

Looks as though Blackwell Academy might be getting a new student soon enough.

_I hope you guys are proud of me, _Clementine thinks to herself, sighing as she leans her head back and waits for some of the other passengers to grab their stuff. A very pregnant woman is helped off by a kind-looking, rather large fellow with glasses and a yellow jacket as they smile kindly towards her, and a part of her thinks that maybe this won't be quite as awful as she once thought it might be.

Little does she realize that her ride through hell has only just begun.


	3. Your first mistake

"So… you still down to see Planet of the Apes this Saturday?"

Taking a few seconds to compose herself as she stuffs a couple of books into her crowded locker, Max smiles wearily as she nods and pulls out her trusty camera; never letting it leave her sight. Truth be told, she had actually almost forgotten about her promise to Warren earlier last week about heading over to the drive-in, mainly due to that incident yesterday with Chloe, but also because Max typically thinks that drive-ins are a little _too retro _even for her tastes. There's just something about them that makes her think that she's living in the sixties whenever she ventures over.

Still, she'd do it for Warren. The guy's been itching to see the old classic ever since they had announced it for their classic movie night, and the added bonus of going with a friend just made the deal seem all the sweeter. If it wasn't obvious to her that Warren's got a big crush on her by now, then nothing would ever change.

It's a pretty sweet feeling, she's got to admit – to be on the receiving end of a crush for once instead of it being the other way around. Knowing that somebody out there actually cares about you to that point is something that Max has always secretly desired, even if she may have played it off pretty well.

…but how ironic is it now that the feelings aren't actually reciprocated? Warren's an amazing guy and an even better friend, but that's just it. That's as far as Max ever really wants it to go right now. Who knows? Maybe things will change one day, but for the moment, all she wants is to have a great friend by her side – sometimes that's an even better option anyways.

She just hopes that by doing this kind of thing that she's not leading the boy on or anything.

"You bet," she nods with a sweet smile. "Can't wait for you to try and explain every single scene out to me and annoy the hell out of everyone else."

"Oh, ha ha… You're _so clever_," he jokes around, nudging her lightly in the arm as his face becomes more visible in the light of the hallway. Max can't help but wince as she glances over at his eye – all swollen and bruised from that idiot Nathan Prescott. She still can't believe that he had gotten a shiner out of that whole affair, all because of some entitled, rich jackass who looked as though he had doped up on some heavy-duty drugs before he had come storming out into the parking lot with vengeance on his mind. Nathan had literally pounced towards her with an intent to _kill_, that much was as clear as day.

But what would that have possibly achieved? It's not as if the intimidation tactics have been working at all, and with the picture taken of the graffiti in her dorm room along with the texts that she's saved on her phone, all the evidence that the police would possibly need would be kept safe in their possession.

Listening to Warren ramble on for a little bit longer on those time travel books that he let her borrow beforehand, Max closes her locker and walks down the hallway with him to the guy's final class of the day – science. She's never been great at the subject, and is dreading the prospect of having to take it next term, but sometimes the experiments that she's seen them do have been pretty cool. Just the other day in fact she had used her time travel ability to help Warren figure out a great chemical reaction by adding some particular ingredients into a beaker.

The amazed look on his face was enough to make Max feel pretty optimistic about an otherwise troublesome problem.

"…and it just makes chaos theory seem that much more legit, you know?" he smirks, clearly swallowed up in yet another science-related topic that Max wouldn't have the foggiest notion about. Just as he's about to get to his classroom, however, he mentions something that slightly intrigues her. "Oh yeah, did you hear? We might be getting another newbie coming pretty soon."

"Really?" she asks, glad for once to not be the newest addition to the otherwise mildly-populated Blackwell Academy. Maybe then she won't be picked on about it as much… "How do you know?"

Looking rather smug with himself, Warren folds his arms together as he leans up against the wall just beside the science door. "Did some elementary detective work, my dear Watson," he boasts, although having to give up the charade when Max rolls her eyes. "I was snooping in on Principle Wells and Ms. Grant this morning… caught some juicy tidbits out of their conversation though!"

"Warren, you shouldn't be eavesdropping…"

"Well then," he plays off, dramatically taking some big steps towards his class at a snail's pace, "I guess you don't want to know what I found out then! That's cool – I was thinking of keeping it all to myself anyways, so I'll just – "

Snatching onto his arm as the teen spins around, Max chuckles as she ushers for him to go on with the story. It's getting pretty close to class time, so the faster he speeds things up, the better off they'll both be.

Wiping the bangs out of his eyes as Brooke Scott walks past the duo with a small smile and a wave, Warren spills the beans. "I couldn't get a name or anything, but I heard that it's this girl who's actually _insanely _good at drawing stuff. Figured she'd be your type of person, you know?" he goes on, sporting a sombre look as he goes onto a more serious note. "This is where it gets pretty shitty. Turns out that the girl's parents both died, and it doesn't sound like it was a natural way to go… She's come all the way from Georgia on a full-ride scholarship, but still… tough deal."

_Damn, that's pretty messed up, _Max thinks to herself, frowning as she rubs her arm in discomfort. Without even having met this person, she already feels pretty bad for her. _Maybe if she and her family had been over here, then maybe I could've…_

"Max?" Warren asks as he waves a hand in front of her face. "Did aliens come and abduct your brain or something? The bell just rang."

Feeling rather flustered at having just totally blanked once again, Max sheepishly rubs the back of her head and chuckles to try and shake it off. Could it even get any more awkward? "Yeah Warren, I'm fine! Just uhh… got a lot on my plate at the moment, that's all. Homework and everything has got me all stressed out."

Feeling concerned for his friend (and possible crush), Warren lightly puts his hand on Max's shoulder as she tenses up a little bit. She's never been one for that kind of touchy-feely kind of stuff, and never being one to really crave that kind of attention despite the flattery she may have felt.

After all, Max has always been the kind of gal preferring to observe life from the sidelines – viewing and observing things from a distance through her own camera lens.

Analog lenses only, though. Definitely not digital.

"Max… you can always talk to me – you know that, right?" he mentions, completely in the dark on what's been transpiring over the past couple of weeks. To say that shit's hit the fan would be a massive understatement, and as much as she'd really like to tell someone besides Chloe about her time powers… it's just not on the radar for right now. If anyone else from Blackwell found out about this weird-ass phenomenon, what would they say about her? Would she be mocked and ridiculed? Counselled for intense amounts of psychotherapy? Would she have to switch schools and return to Seattle while eliminating the one chance she's had at finding a class she's truly felt inspired by?

Or would Warren's conspiracy theories about mind control come true? The government could possibly come and crack open her head for scientific research, for all she knows!

"I know," she responds simply without going into any further detail. "Thanks bud – I appreciate it. Really."

"_I see you hovering outside the door, Mr. Graham! You too, Miss Caulfield! Are you going to get to class, or would you like us all to wait?"_

Knowing that Ms. Grant would no doubt sit and wait until the boy came in, Warren smirks sheepishly before quickly waving goodbye and darting to his seat. Max, in turn, heads into Mr. Jefferson's room with little more than a peep… despite the entire class seeing her enter. Groaning in defeat, Max accepts the pink slip of paper and scatters the rest of her items around the desk.

Looks like it's going to be her very first round of detention at Blackwell Academy. There's always a first for everything…

* * *

"…Clem? You home?" Lee hollers through the house as he steps in through the front door and places his briefcase down on the floor. Hearing no reply, Lee sets his car keys on the cream-coloured counter beside him as he shrugs out of his leather jacket and hangs it up in the closet. Working down at the University of Oregon can sometimes take a lot out of the thirty-seven year old history professor.

It's not that working back in Atlanta at UGA was a shitty job. On the contrary – Lee actually really enjoyed himself there while making lots of lifelong friends along the way. But the incentives to sign on over here in Oregon were just too lucrative to pass up. A full-time position with paid holidays, dental and healthcare benefits, better hours, less traffic to and from work, _and _getting to be the head of the history department? Oh boy, the opportunity was Lee's golden ticket on the trip to success! He literally couldn't ask for a better position to be in!

Lately, however, those perks have become overshadowed by the devastating news of Ed and Diana's untimely deaths.

The funeral had been kind of bittersweet for Mr. Everett, seeing's how most of the people he didn't actually know himself. But it wasn't about _him _in any way – it was meant to celebrate the lives of his brother and his sister-in-law, as well as to try and make up for all the things he had missed in their lives. Being on the other side of the country for nearly ten years without visiting had left the man feeling like a complete stranger when he showed up for the ceremony.

But this time was also especially hard on one individual in particular.

Clementine had come to him earlier that day with unwavering tears in her eyes while simultaneously breaking Lee's heart in the process. He adored the girl to no end, and to see her life just torn to pieces like that nearly killed him inside. That coupled with the loss of his own family made the whole day incredibly painful to endure, but as much as he still hates to admit it, the deaths didn't hit him nearly as hard as it should've. Ed and Lee were never that close growing up, and had essentially lost almost all of their contact after moving out in high school. Clementine was literally the only thing that held their thinly-hanging brotherly bond together after she was born, but guilt couldn't even begin to describe the feelings he had upon hearing of the killings.

So, in order to somehow try and make things a little bit better, he had offered to house the eighteen year old under his roof. It was really the least he could do given all that had transpired.

Deciding to make himself a light snack before preparing some dinner, Lee heads to the kitchen of his small townhouse and marches straight to the fridge. There was some cheese in here the last time that he had checked, so a little bit of crackers and cheese would be enough to satisfy his palate for the time being.

Stopping himself as he grasps the fridge door handle, Lee squints his eyes as he notices the note that Clementine has left for him; stuck to the metal part of the refrigerator by an Atlanta Falcons magnet he had bought when he was a kid.

"Went out for a stroll, will be back later – Clementine," Lee reads as he places the note on the kitchen counter and shakes his head with a chuckle. She would be the one to use a sticky note instead of just texting him, if the little doodle of a zombie on the bottom was any indication. He's never really understood the girl's fascination with books and fan fiction and television shows about the apocalypse, but to each their own he supposes. Maybe he'd give it a whirl one of these days.

The imagination of that girl has never ceased to amaze him.

* * *

It's beautiful in Arcadia Bay this time of year. The trees have fully changed colour to vibrant shades of red, yellow and orange, the air is chilly yet not overbearing, the birds are getting set for their long journeys down south, and everyone that's passed by have been in uplifted spirits at just the opportunity to walk around in such a peaceful, quiet part of town. The few clouds in the late afternoon sky have done nothing to kill the mood for most of the inhabitants walking around and along the coastline.

All in all, a pretty spectacular day in the small county of Arcadia Bay.

Yet to Clementine, all of this is absolutely sickening. How could the nicer parts of town be so cheerful and happy when she is so god damn miserable? She hasn't made it easier on herself since she's gotten here, what with constantly leaving Lee's house and usually not coming home until late after dinner.

But the point is that, despite the change in her surroundings, Clementine still doesn't feel as though she truly belongs here. She's an outsider; an outcast with no place over in this pristine dot on the map. What could she possibly have to contribute to the community? It's not as if her drawings have really won her any favours other than getting into some _prestigious academy!_

Clem's been debating internally on whether she should even be showing up in a few days' time, and considering just heading over to that Two Whales Diner in town to work as a waitress or something along those lines instead. She'd be making some dough, and she'd at least be able to help with the payments on the townhouse that she's staying at… which Lee would likely never accept.

Her acceptance message is still buried deep inside of her phone, however, and it's not as if Lee would really accept no for an answer at this point. The look on his face upon hearing the news was almost like watching a six year old get a new toy for his birthday – pure, unadulterated happiness.

She would never want to take that away from him; his pride at having a niece who's also artistically talented. For once, things didn't actually look that gloomy in the Everett house that day.

Kicking a pebble down the dirt road as she places her hands in her jean pockets, Clementine wanders ahead as she comes face to face with a grimy, old sign – ARCADIA BAY JUNKYARD. She's still not sure how her legs had carried her all the way over to this dump, or why she'd even venture this far out in the first place, but sometimes a little exploration could be good for the soul. She's needed some space to just chill out and set her head on straight for a while now, so what better place than the local scrapyard?

Spotting an old truck with the engine still whirring beneath the front hood, Clementine tilts her head around in search of whoever might be driving the vehicle. Nobody would just leave their truck like this unless they were coming back for it in a hurry, and yet she can't find any sign of where the driver may have taken off to.

Upon investigating further, Detective Clementine places a hand up against the glass as she peers inside. The keys are still in the ignition, there's a half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting in the front seat, and there's also a hula-dancer figurine gently swaying back and forth on the front dashboard as it dances to the beat of the engine. The various amounts of hair on the passenger seat suggests that the owner must also have some kind of dog, but the pet isn't in here either. Where could this person have gone?

With nothing more to do, and for the fear of looking as though she's about to rob this person, Clementine steps back and shrugs; figuring that she might as well just go and check out this junkyard while she's still got some daylight left. Curfews are a bitch, but not quite as much when you're able to set them yourself. Good, old Uncle Lee…

Whistling softly to herself as she glances around at the interesting stuff that people have just thrown away, Clementine makes it about twenty steps in when she suddenly hears some kind of argument going on up ahead.

"It's cute that you're playing with guns – just like me at your age."

"We're not _anything_ alike, man…"

Curious, and feeling extra nosy today, Clementine tiptoes over towards a broken-down motorboat as she tries to get a better view. Getting spotted is definitely not something that she wants to experience, especially with a group of three strangers.

Speaking of which…

"We both need money. In fact, you need it so bad that you owe me a shitload," a shaggy-looking man remarks, looking as though he's some type of drug dealer of sorts. Clem can only assume that he's the owner of that truck, as the dog she had guessed about earlier is sitting loyally beside him. "Don't you, Chloe?"

She can already tell that this girl is a punk simply from appearances. With a black jacket, beanie and boots, along with a punk rock t-shirt and wicked blue hair, "Chloe" frowns crossly at the man before sharply adding that he'll get his money.

"Don't they all say that? Y'know, even when they're broke and acting tough…" he scoffs, getting suspicious as he looks upon the other person standing near them. Pointing a finger demandingly, the grizzled man walks towards the second girl as Chloe tries to stand between them. "What are you hiding there, girlie? Lemme see!"

From the angle that Clementine's at from her spot behind the boat, she can see the object as clear as day. What would a timid little thing like her be doing wielding a gun of all things behind her back? If her shaking hands are any indicator, she could guess that the girl's probably never been properly trained on how to use one of those firearms, and the whole scene is pretty startling to behold. If she draws that thing without knowing how to use it properly, somebody could get seriously hurt.

"Where did you get that bracelet?" Chloe intervenes as the man gets distracted for a brief moment.

"A friend, and it's none of your god damn business! You're my business now, and I –"

"That's _Rachel's _bracelet. Why the fuck are you wearing her bracelet?!"

"Calm yourself, alright? It was a gift," he tries to defend himself, but the spunky teenager is having absolutely none of it. Geez… maybe Arcadia Bay isn't quite as peaceful as she had once believed.

Trying to grapple and pry it off of his wrist, Chloe gets shoved to the side as the man glares and warns her not to try something like that again.

However, things truly start getting fucked up when the other girl shakily raises the gun and points it straight towards him.

"Whoa…" Clementine whispers quietly to herself, thinking that she wouldn't actually have the balls to try something like this. Sometimes the heroes really are the ones that you'd least expect.

Clem only wishes that she'd have brought some popcorn for this live show that they're putting on right now.

"Please…" she says coolly, though with a little hesitation edged into her voice as well. "Please step back. Right now."

"You're kidding – put that down," he orders as a pocketknife glimmers in the sunlight. Clem hadn't even noticed it until now. "Don't get stupid now, girl – gimme the gun, and I'll let you two kiddies run home."

"Frank, just leave us the fucking hell alone! Max and I don't need this shit!" Chloe insists, getting a hard smack in the face as he flails his arm around.

Who would've thought that that would be his final action left in this world?

_BAM!_

Gasping for air as the scarlet red liquid quickly spills out from his chest, Frank glances with widened eyes at the smoking pistol as he falls to his knees and lands face-down in the dirt; shot through the heart by a teenaged girl.

The air is deathly silent as Max and Chloe both stare down at the body with flabbergasted expressions, with their faces revealing nothing but total shock as Max quickly drops the gun. The sound had ricocheted out around the junkyard, but nobody is really around to hear it.

Nobody except…

"Oh my god… oh my god… oh my god…" Max repeats as she covers her mouth and resists the urge to vomit all over the dirt. Frank's dog whines in sadness as it sniffs at his corpse and pokes the man in the side in an attempt to wake him up. But no amount of begging is going to bring this man back to life. "I-I didn't mean… Oh my god, I… OH MY GOD!"

"Jesus Christ… I didn't think that you'd actually…" Chloe cuts herself off, shaking her head as she grasps onto her friend's shoulders. "It's… it's alright though, Max! We can fix this, remember? Your… your time power! You can – "

With the both of them turning their heads to the sound of somebody accidentally knocking into the stranded motor-boat, neither of them can stomach the thought that a girl had just witnessed them both caught in the act of murder. Slowly backing away, Clementine tries to keep her full identity a secret in case this really comes back to bite her in the ass, but unfortunately she's pretty convinced that both teens have most definitely seen her face.

Strangely enough, Max can't seem to function properly upon seeing the girl's face. The pigtails, the sweater, the hat, the eyes… it's the exact same girl from her vision a couple of days ago!

But what the hell is she doing in a place like this?!

"M-Max… You've got to reverse time right now! Max! Snap out of it! We can't let this happen!" Chloe practically begs her, shaking the girl's arm in a desperate attempt to get her out of her daze. Unfortunately, Ms. Caulfield has become so transfixed with Clementine and the vision with all the disastrous results that she can't even function properly, let alone get her powers to work.

Turning on a dime and sprinting away as fast as she can, Clementine blows by the truck without a second thought as she tries to get out of this place once and for all. She can't help but worry that at least one of the two girls will eventually come after her to silence a potential snitch, and that concern for her life is what's driving her past her physical limitations.

Her parents were already murdered, and Clementine definitely doesn't want to join them.

* * *

_AN: So... you're probably wondering where I'm going to take this story now that Max and Chloe have finally seen Clementine. The truth is... I'm still kind of working out the details of where I want this to go XD I'm a big fan of both fandoms (The Walking Dead even more so) and so I really want to try something that'll kind of satisfy elements from both of these genres._

_Just note though, that there more than likely will NOT be walkers in this, although like in this chapter, I may make references to them from time to time :) _

_Anyways, I just wanted to let you guys know that updates will be a little bit more frequent for this than usual, as I plan on dishing out the next chapter either sometime tomorrow or Monday, depending on how things go. But exams are done, and all that's left for me is to try and find some summer employment, so I might have some more time to try and update these fanfics! That's my goal for this summer: not to finish all of them, because that's just not gonna happen, but at least to try and make an effort of updating more regularly. That's fair, isn't it? _

_Also, I wanted to give a big shoutout to those who have reviewed thus far! I honestly didn't think this would get any at all considering it's the only one in this crossover section, but thanks to you guys - Meg, Emily, Thoughtless Thoughts, SonicGX98 and Spiderclone! You guys are awesome and have some amazing stories in your repertoire, so if you're just tuning in now then you should definitely check them out!_

_Alright, that's all I wanted to say :) Later, homies!_

_Leafs Nation_


	4. Covering up the evidence

Ten or fifteen minutes have passed since the gun had ended the life of Frank Bowers, and secured Max Caulfield in history as a killer. An eighteen year old, regretful and accidental killer, but a killer nonetheless. There's no denying the fact that it was _her _who pulled the trigger; _her _who fired the weapon straight into Frank's chest.

And here she still stands at the scene of the crime, along with a very nervous best friend whose main goal right now is to try and get things back to the way they were before.

"Max… you've gotta focus right now, alright? Just look at me – look at my face!" Chloe insists as she tilts Max's head towards her own. The dull, glossy look in the girl's eyes is freaking Chloe out almost as much as the body is, seeing's how distant from reality she appears to be. It's almost as if Max has become trapped in some kind of weird trance.

Chloe had seen the gun in her hands when she had aimed it at Frank beforehand, but neither of them actually thought that there was another bullet still locked and loaded within it. It was a split-second decision to pull the trigger and fire out a round, but no matter what she tries, Max still can't find it within herself to reverse time once again.

Even if it means that Frank is dead, she still can't find it within herself to change things around. And that girl that ran off just a little while ago…

Panicking more by the minute, Chloe tries to shake her friend's shoulders around as the dog growls before sprinting off after trying to wake up his owner. It seems that it knows Frank won't be able to spring up and play catch with him any longer.

"You… you've gotta tell me what to do here!" Chloe encourages grasping her fingers around her beanie in anxiety and scrunching it up in a fist; revealing a large tuft of messy, blue hair on the top of her head. Max can't help but think that she looks like a Final Fantasy character. "If you need me to… fuck, I don't know! I'll find some more bottles, put them in a circle and do some kind of crazy, cult ritual if that's what it takes! I'll do all the voodoo shit you need me to!" she emphasizes as she actually gathers a bottle, two bricks and a piece of the old seafood restaurant sign before placing them around her feet. Sitting cross-legged as she sways her body back and forth, Chloe looks more like she's about to summon a rainstorm than try and get Max's powers to work, but things are dire enough that she's more than willing to try anything.

Shaking her head in grief, Max's bottom lip quivers as she falls to her knees in front of the little shrine that her friend has tried to concoct. "I can't do it…" she murmurs whilst holding her head in her open palms. "I… I'm not strong enough…"

"Max, you _have to! _There's no other option here – Frank is _dead! _Do you know how fucked we'll be if this stands?! That girl's gonna run off and tell the cops on the both of us!"

"No, no! You don't understand! I've done this like five times already! My power's drained!"

"What's there to understand, Max?" Chloe demands as she stands up and charges towards the girl; snatching her wrist and pulling it closer towards her. "Just hold your hand out like you usually do, and BAM! Problem solved! Just reverse time and fix all of this! Please!"

Try as she might, Max can't break free of Chloe's firm grasp no matter how much she struggles and squirms out of it. Not that it's going to be any use for the spunky, punk-rocker anyways, since Max indeed has already tried to rewind this whole scenario five times over. Each time has slightly different outcomes than the last, but none of them result in a happy ending. And as harsh as this may seem, in the end, having Frank die… actually is the best (or least shitty) outcome out of all of them.

The one startling difference and defining factor that's gone beyond Max's control is that teenager with the blue and white ball cap; for some strange reason only showing up this time around. Could she be somehow connected to all of this? Max certainly can't believe that it's merely a coincidence that she had showed up when she did, but what part the girl could play is still a big mystery.

Either way though, no matter the time control element, somebody is seriously fucked.

"Chloe, it's not worth it! Just let me go!" Max yells as she is yet again ignored when Chloe forces her to open up her hand and stick it out in the air. The teen nearly takes her shoulder out of her socket in the process, but so many fears about going back to that police station and _actually _getting booked is driving her paranoia along further and further. Multiple arrests for drug-related charges have been bad enough over the past couple of years, but being an accomplice to a murder is another matter entirely. She has no doubt that that's what'll happen if things don't just magically change.

And Chloe could never live with herself if Max got sent away for the deed, too. This was her idea to come to this stupid "secret lair" in the first place, and it was her idea to steal her stepfather's gun and dick around with it. Regardless if Frank was a major asshole or not, this can't happen, and if there's something that they can actually do to stop it, then Chloe will risk ripping apart the space-time continuum for it to succeed.

As Max tries to bring her hand back around, she accidentally has her hand land right overtop of Chloe's forehead as time comes to a standstill.

* * *

…the air feels… different, somehow. They can feel a tingling sensation running up and down the lengths of their spines, but for some reason Chloe and Max both feel disconnected from themselves – almost as if they're not where they're actually supposed to be.

It's a warm feeling crawling through their skin and burying within their bones, but neither of them can place where exactly this force is coming from. The air is foggy around them as it swallows them both into its misty embrace, and yet they can still see each other as if it was a clear, sunny day. Their clothes are the same, and both of them can move their arms and legs around, yet neither of them seem to get anywhere when they try to move. The girls are suspended in mid-air, but for some reason still feel as free as a jail bird.

"…Chloe?" Max breaks the silence as her voice carries over towards her. The pale, smoothness of her skin hasn't diminished one bit as she glances down at her hands, yet when she looks over towards her friend, Max notices that the girl is practically a ghost. "Holy shit… I-I can see right through you! You're completely transparent!"

"Yeah… ditto!" Chloe points back as the fog slowly starts to dissolve into tiny particles that almost look like stardust as they fall to the ground below them. The whole scene would be pretty magical if they actually knew where they were or what the hell is going on. "Max," she remarks as the scene below starts to become more and more visible, "please tell me that this is all a part of your plan somehow…"

Gasping as everything in front of them starts to become clearer and clearer, Max points straight ahead as they end up seeing… themselves. Only this time, Frank has yet to be shot and Max (or at least the image of her) has yet to pull the gun out from behind her back.

"This is what happened to us the first time…" she reveals as Chloe tries to wrap her head around this whole thing. "There's… there's the dog barking at us… You try to take back Racheal's bracelet… and Frank pulls the knife…"

Sure enough, the image of Chloe tries to make a go for Frank's wrist in the exact same fashion as before, and Frank quickly pulls the pocketknife and dangerously flashes it before her eyes.

Up above, the two girls can do absolutely nothing to intervene as they are forced to watch what happens next, even though Max pretty much knows everything that's going on.

"I think these are… my memories…"

"Max, how the hell are we seeing this right now? What's going on?"

Not exactly knowing how to answer that, and really starting to wish that she had read those books and web links that Warren had prescribed to her in full detail, Max points to the visual image of herself as the gun is pulled out… but no bullet is fired this time.

"_Well isn't that cute! A little girl pretending to be some bad-ass hero coming in to save the day!" _Frank mocks as he tears the gun out of her grasp and shoves her to the dirt. He waves the gun around in front of her face in a taunting position as Chloe tries to come to the rescue… but she is still unaware of the knife in Frank's other hand.

"_Leave her alone, you fuck – "_

Cut off immediately as the blade is forcefully lodged into the crane of her neck, Chloe convulses as Frank rips her skin open from just below her earlobe and across her neck to the other side; slicing cleanly through to the bone as Max shrieks in aguish. The girl literally chokes on her own blood as she collapses to the ground and bangs her head on one of the smashed beer bottles, as Frank meanwhile quickly steals the money in her pocket and darts away without another word.

"_CHLOE! NO, YOU CAN'T DIE!" _Max squeals even though she knows that she's far too late to save her by conventional means.

With her friend dying after having been slaughtered like a lamb by Frank's hands, Max uses the only method she has at her disposal. The world around her starts to spin out of control as everything starts to go backwards from what had just happened not even ten seconds ago.

Up above, the real Max and Chloe can't believe what they've just witnessed; the latter even more so.

"…no…"

"The same thing happens twice more if I don't shoot him…" Max remarks guiltily, feeling as though she's shrivelling up into a ball as the scene suddenly changes back to when that mysterious girl had come up before. "Chloe, that… that's her! Over there, the girl from my tornado vision! The one in the hat!"

Still feeling overwhelmed after seeing herself getting sliced open like a can of peaches, Chloe forces herself to tear her eyes away before following the direction Max is pointing towards. Sure enough, the same witness is there this time and is hiding behind the same blue motor boat that they spotted her in before. She's not really doing a whole lot right now, but for some reason, the only time that Max actually pulls the trigger is when she is standing right there watching the whole thing go down. Studying her appearance carefully, Chloe makes a mental note to try and find her before she goes and squeals on them; noting the black, curly locks sticking out the back of her hat, along with the clothes she's wearing as well as those yellow, piercing eyes. Chloe's never seen anything like it before.

As soon as the gun goes off and the startled girl falls backwards a little bit, Chloe and Max are ripped from their little detour and slowly drift back towards reality, with both of them feeling as though they spent far too much time on those spinning rides you'd find at the carnival.

"What… the shit…" Chloe gasps, bumping into Frank's corpse as she tries to back away from Max. "I thought you said you could only control time, Max! Why the hell could I see inside your head just now?!"

Feeling yet another nosebleed coming along, Max tries to stand up and wipe the icky substance with her sleeve. That's the million dollar question for them to answer – clearly there's still more to her power that even she doesn't fully understand, and apparently it starts with her being able to share… time? How could anyone possibly have the ability to show others these kinds of things?

"We need to hide the body…" Chloe mutters after hearing no response from her; grasping onto the man's arms as she struggles to drag Frank off to the side. "Urgh… could use some help over here! He's a lot heavier… than I thought…"

Feeling a little off-put with how easily Chloe's able to suggest something like this, Max shudders before complying and lifting up Frank's legs. The consequences of this could be terribly severe, especially if anyone were to find out about the deed, so the two girls make a silent vow to track down their witness and keep her from blurting out the truth to the wrong person. The time powers are one thing to worry over, but this is another serious matter entirely.

Finding an old shovel that looks as though it'll break almost upon impact, Chloe points over to a spot opposite the train tracks where they could possibly go out and bury him. "Nobody would notice," she mentions with a grimace, still trying to absorb the fact that in another scenario, she is actually dead. The girl's never really been afraid of much aside from losing her friends and family, but Chloe had never really considered the possibility of getting herself killed in any way. Teenagers are usually the ones who think that they are truly invincible.

Today proved that entirely wrong.

"This all so fucked…" Max says with a grunt as they try dragging him across the train tracks. As both of the girls fall short on oxygen, they simply decide to leave the body there until they can dig the hole to place him in. Not much of a funeral for him, but it's better than just leaving him out for the world to see. It's not as if he's going to stand back up and try to eat them or anything. "God damn it… I'm so sorry! No matter what I tried to do, _somebody _ended up dead! And the only way that you ended up safe was… _this._"

Stomping the shovel into the dirt with her foot once, Chloe pauses for a moment to collect herself. Indeed, the proof was right in front of her eyes just a little while ago even though neither of them can fully comprehend it. She wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for Max's heroics, yet the consequence of that choice was the lost life of another. Should she be glad about this? Happy? Satisfied that she gets to live another day while someone else has died?

She can't help but feel dirty about the whole thing, like there's something crawling inside of her that she can't get rid of; an itch that Chloe can't scratch. That's twice now that Max has saved her within the span of just a few weeks. Once in the bathroom, once here. Who knows how long her luck will actually last?

Seemingly out of the blue, Chloe walks over to Max and wraps her arms tightly around her neck; burying her face into her side as she tightens her grip in appreciation. "You've got _nothing _to apologize for," Chloe mumbles as she rubs tiny circles on Max's back in order to soothe her soul. She's quite a bit taller than the photography fanatic, but right now that size difference feels enormous – like a giant trying to comfort a small, timid and scared mouse. "I don't know what exactly is going on with this thing you have right now… but I do know that you're not a killer, Max. As far as I'm concerned, you're just an uber-awesome, ever day hero."

Feeling slightly more comforted by her words, Max relaxes a little bit in her friend's arms; glad that even though she's in the deepest amount of shit that she's ever experienced, at least they're both in it together. Even after five years of no contact, and so many obstacles in the way that could've prevented them from ever becoming friends again, here they stand against the world – ready to face whatever comes next as a team. At the end of the world, it's Chloe and Max hanging on to the bitter end.

She can't help but feel a lot more respect and affection for Chloe than she has had since they were tweens.

"Listen… we're gonna get through this thing, but we're gonna need a game plan. And I think that means getting out of Arcadia Bay, one way or another," Chloe mentions as they break the contact. "Racheal and I were trying to save up for moving down to California, and it's not as if Frank really needs the money back anymore…" she trails off as Max tries her best to ignore the elephant in the room, still propped on the railway tracks behind them as they try to figure out where to go from here. "But that's what we're going to do – you and I are gonna track Racheal down, gather up enough money and blow this place once and for all. Nothing's gonna stand in our way."

As much as she admires her confidence, Max can't help but experience some mixed feelings about all of this. Blackwell is the very reason she came back to Oregon in the first place, and regardless of what may have transpired, that school is literally her life right now. If she left that all behind and ran away with Chloe, what would happen at home? Would she be able to tell her Mom and Dad where she was going? They likely wouldn't understand, and the second that she left the cops would likely get called to investigate and look for her as well. There are already enough Missing Person posters hung up around Arcadia Bay, and the last thing that Max needs is for her face to be shown on every street corner in the town.

Lord knows she hates being in the spotlight.

But Max doesn't voice any of these inner thoughts or doubts. She can't find the voice within to speak her mind right now, with all of the guilt slowly eating away at her and clouding her judgement. Right now, the one thing that's on her mind is avoiding the police by any means necessary, and if that calls for sneaking away from Oregon with no set destination, then that's what she feels she needs to do. It'd be just like Frank had joked about when he first showed up: Bonnie and Clyde out on the road, fucking shit up and going wherever the wind might take them. Forget the past – the future is whatever they want it to be. Perhaps her photography skills could be useful if they actually ever make it out to California, where she could be a freelance photographer for a newspaper, or maybe even taking pictures for some prestigious magazine.

Hell, she might not even have needed to enter into Mr. Jefferson's photo contest after all. Max could potentially find her own way there with the help of her friend.

"Now come on, let's bury this dude before the flies get at him," says Chloe, not realizing the severity of that statement as she picks the shovel back up and starts digging. The ground is pretty soft from a recent rainstorm earlier this morning, with puddles and the like dotting the landscape in various patches, so the dirt is at least a little bit easier to remove.

While she gets to work on the hole, Max decides that it'd probably be a good idea for her to try and move Frank closer towards them so that he's not in direct visibility. The last thing that they need is somebody else coming over and spotting them burying a dead guy.

Shivering as she clutches onto the man's cold, dead hands, Max stops for a brief moment as she hears some kind of whistling noise coming a ways down the tracks; around the bend and shaking the metal bars as it comes full steam ahead.

_WHOO-WHOO!_

"Oh my god…" Max whispers, urgently turning back towards Chloe as she hears it too. "Quickly! We need to move him before the train gets here!"

Springing into action, Chloe drops the shovel to the ground as she clutches onto Frank's other arm and pulls backwards as hard as she can. The heels of her boots scrape into the stones surrounding the tracks as the dude barely moves an inch, and neither of them see what's going on until the realization smacks them both in the face – Frank's leg is caught in the tracks, and there's no way to move him.

"Crap! We need to change the train's direction! Or at least stop it somehow!" Max insists as she goes to lift her hand out and try the time power again, yet there's no dice. That time share ability completely zapped her of any energy she may have possessed, and the only thing that's resulting is a massive headache coming on.

Upon seeing that nothing's really changed (or that she just hasn't realized it at all), Chloe comes to the conclusion that they're not going to have enough time to move the body out of the way of the oncoming locomotive. They simply don't have the time or the power to change any of this from happening, so, biting her lip, the teen makes a split-second decision.

Hurriedly sliding Racheal's bracelet off of Frank's wrist, Chloe encourages Max to follow her into the maintenance shed up on the hill.

"Chloe?!" Max wonders aloud; appalled that she's just given up on getting him out. "What are you – "

"Shut up and get inside!" Chloe interrupts as she grabs the girl's wrist again and tries the door. "Damn it, we're locked out! Find something we can pry this open with!"

With the train heading at full speed with no signs of slowing down before reaching its target, Max groans audibly before jogging over to a crowbar and tossing it back to her crazy friend. This entire morning has been nothing but plots, killings and hidings – all of which is really starting to weigh down on their shoulders. All within the span of a couple hours, they've broken more laws than they even knew were in place, yet neither of them for the moment are willing to quit just yet.

Managing to bust open the lock, Chloe murmurs in victory before quickly getting inside and motioning for Max to shut the door behind them. With nothing else to do besides wait for the inevitable, the two girls sit on the dusty floor of the shack and lean their heads back against the metallic walls.

"…there's no way we can stay here after today…" Max admits with a grimace, feeling disgusted with herself as she rubs her eyes tiredly. The killing is still weighing down heavily on her mind, and likely won't be disappearing from her anytime soon, if ever. "Just when things were finally starting to go well… shit just decided to hit the fan all at once…"

Chloe opens her mouth to try and come up with something clever to say, but really this time there's not a whole lot to argue with. She's been through some pretty messed up shenanigans in her life before, especially when it comes to drug money and her friend going missing, but today may have just topped all of that in terms of fuckitude.

"Let's figure all of this out," she replies instead while grabbing her hand tightly and bracing for the impact that's about to occur down below, "together…"

Chloe and Max nearly pass out from disturbance as the train runs Frank over and practically obliterates him; the crushing of flesh and bone underneath the vehicle making it look like a suicide instead of a murder. This goes on for another fifteen seconds or so as the cars flatten the body into a pancake, and by the time that the train disappears, there's literally nothing left of the man to bury. The remnants of the sketchy RV and truck owner are nothing more than splashes of blood, tattered clothing and a detached head that's been crushed and has rolled off to the side.

Max violently vomits in the corner as Chloe holds her head in her hands. One action has resulted in the worst day of their lives thus far.

Perhaps this time power is becoming more of a curse than a blessing after all.

* * *

"Clem?" Lee asks in concern, gesturing with his spoon over to his niece's cereal bowl as she blankly stares at the table. "You alright, sweet pea? You've barely touched your breakfast this morning. Is everything… okay?"

It could be so easy to say it… or it could just somehow make things about ten times worse than they'd need to be. Clem remembers her teachers in early grade school always telling the class that if there was ever any trouble in their lives, or if there was a problem that they didn't know how to solve on their own, that they should always go to an adult for guidance. They're experienced, and have lived through the same things that they have beforehand.

But has Lee ever had to deal with something of _this _magnitude? Clementine's got no idea, although she sincerely doubts that he's ever been through something this serious firsthand. Knowing about and witnessing a crime at eighteen years old isn't exactly what she had pictured would end up happening after just having moved to Arcadia Bay.

"…Lee?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever… seen a person do something really, REALLY bad? But you're not sure if it was just an accident or not, so you haven't known whether to say anything about it or not?" she blabs on while practically talking in riddles. It takes a while for Lee to try and put the pieces together, but when he finally does, the man shrugs his shoulders.

"There were a few times growing up where I had caught Ed doing something he wasn't supposed to," Lee recalls, being careful to choose his words carefully in order to not upset her, "but I hardly ever thought that it was that big of a deal. At least, until he was in some kind of danger. Why do you ask?"

Twirling the bits of cereal around in the milk with her spoon, Clementine's eyes droop low as she reluctantly scoops a bunch and starts to eat. "No reason…" she lies while withholding the truth that's been scratching at her mind all night long. It's none of her business really anyways, right? She's got absolutely no desire to have to go and deal with the police again, since Clem had literally just been mixed up in a whole murder investigation previously involving both of her parents. The crooked smile that Carver had given her before they took the bastard away was enough to chill the girl right to the core, and the cops that she dealt with back in Georgia weren't a whole lot better.

One fellow, Rick Grimes, the sheriff's deputy, was nice enough, she supposes, but some of the other guys like Shane Walsh just took one look at hr and practically shoved her aside. _She's still a child_, she remembered the guy telling Lilly one time. _Just look at her! She's scared shitless! How is she going to be any help with the investigation?_

That had left a very bad taste in her mouth, and ever since then she's been extremely nervous to even _look _at police officers, let alone actually talk to them. Besides, she's thoroughly convinced that somehow they'll be able to catch those two girls eventually, seeing's how they didn't look like professional criminals of any sort. How would they possibly be able to cover their tracks?

The only thing that Clem knows right now is that she's the new girl in town, and right now she's a target for being the sole witness to that man's murder. The police force in a small town like this can't be that large, and they definitely wouldn't be able to protect everyone 24/7. In her mind, the best solution would be just to lay low and let this whole mess sort itself out with no interference from her. She doesn't want to already develop a reputation at Blackwell before she's even begun.

Until she can rest assured that her wellbeing and security is well in hand and that there's no threat for her to face, Clementine's going to keep this information close to her chest. Who knows? Maybe this could even be used as a bargaining chip if need be.

"If you say so…" Lee mentions skeptically, his suspicion raised twofold after hearing her response. "Anyways, I've gotta run, kiddo. I might not be home until a bit later tonight, so there's some frozen dinners in the freezer if you'd like. Have a great first day at Blackwell, Clem!"

Smiling slightly in appreciation, Clementine nods before dumping the rest of her bowl down the drain. As exhausted and troubled as she might be from all that's been going down lately, going to Blackwell isn't quite as bothersome as she had figured it would be last night. In fact, you could say that she's actually pretty pumped to be going to the academy. Although it's mainly world-renowned for its photography program, Blackwell is definitely no stranger to other forms of the arts. Drawing here is practically right up her alleyway.

Quickly grabbing her bag and locking the door behind her, Clementine sprints over to the bus with yesterday's events still in the back of her mind, yet oddly she's not nearly as perturbed as she thought she would be. Perhaps it's because she literally just went through something similar and that this has left her largely unfazed to other issues of the same variety, but she can't help but feel a little smug. Not even a week into this place, and she's already got some dirt on people's extracurricular activities. As much of an accident as it may have appeared to be, and the fact that the man looked dangerous as hell, Clementine can't help but feel a little bit advantaged knowing what she does.

Hopefully Max and Chloe will be able to get their just desserts.


	5. I just needed a friend!

"Hold her steady there, Nick! Nice and easy… easy does it…" his best friend coaxes as the black 2007 Honda Civic is slowly lowered down from its pedestal. It took them most of the weekend plus Monday and Tuesday to figure out what exactly the problem was and how they'd be able to fix it, but Luke's never been one to shy away from a challenge.

Especially if that challenge is enough to reward their business with an extra 2K in the pocket. Incentives like those have always managed to put a smile on their faces and a warm feeling in the pits of their stomachs, making them act all giddy like a couple of young boys. It took some major convincing for Nick's uncle Pete to grant them some money to cover some of the start-up costs, but things for the moment seem to finally start getting turned around for the better. No more binge-eating on Kraft Dinner for these two, no sir! Now they can dine like kings – barbecued hot dogs and the cheapest beer that they can afford instead!

Truth be told, however, Luke probably would've taken this operation for free if not for Lee's insistence on paying in full. Lee had taught him for a few years over at the university and had helped him try to find a career well outside of the institution.

And although the degree in art history turned out to be more of a nice sentiment more than anything else, he still appreciates the help that he was given. Lee could've given up on the twenty-seven year old a long time ago, but he knew that there was a fire in Luke's heart, and that if anyone deserved a shot at succeeding with the tools that they had, it'd have to be him. So, besides helping Nick and Luke move a bunch of the equipment into the little building that they had acquired for auto repairs, Lee had also helped with the local advertisements and had gotten the Two Whales Diner to even sponsor their business. The town may be small, but there were still a handful of people willing to come together in order to make a difference.

It's just a shame that many of those same people seemed to have packed up and left Arcadia Bay in recent years.

"Lee, there was so much wrong with this tub that we didn't even know where to begin," Nick truthfully remarks as Lee watches the car slowly descend to the shop floor. As the vehicle lands with a _thud_, Nick steps away from the control panel before handing the keys over to the history professor. "The engine was malfunctioning, the exhaust pipe was practically on fire, the transmission was totally off setting… why don't you just get a new car and scrap this hunk of junk already? They're selling 'em for pretty cheap over at the dealership."

"Anything's better than the rental I've been using over the past few days. Besides," Lee points out as he starts signing a paper that he's barely had the time to read through, "if it's cheap, wouldn't that just mean it'd run even worse? Old faithful here has brought me through hell and back – she's not kicking the dirt just yet."

Chuckling to himself softly, Nick shrugs his shoulders in wonder at how set in his ways Lee appears to be about this piece of machinery. The guy's been doing pretty well for himself, all things considered. And it's not as if there aren't plenty of other towns besides Arcadia that sell newer versions of the car he's got. Perhaps it's just got some sentimental value for the guy, but Nick can't be sure.

With no other clients coming in today, and Lee not really being in much of a hurry now that he's called in as not being able to come to work today, Luke decides to close up shop and just chat for a little while. That's the beauty of he and his friend running this place together: they determine what the operating hours are, and thanks to the small nature of the town, they can often close up early without any repercussions.

"You said your niece has come over to live with you now, right?" he inquires as he tries to take an interest in something besides the auto body shop. "Clementine, wasn't it? Is she settling in well enough around here? This ain't the most exciting of places, after all."

Not wanting to go into too much detail, since the pain of his brother's untimely demise is still lodged fresh in his mind, Lee takes a second to reflect on how things have been going under his roof so far. "It's been… an adjustment, that's for sure. For both of us, come to think of it," he reveals while leaning back in the driver's seat. "That girl's had to go through more crap than most, and having to suddenly just drop everything in her old life and come straight over here has been a bit of a challenge. Sometimes it even makes me end up feeling like I'm a stranger in my own home."

Noticing the sullen change in Lee's tone as he opens up to them, Luke clears his throat roughly before leaning his hand over the roof of the car and trying to sympathize. "Well… from the sounds of it, I get the sense that she's a real good kid," he acknowledges as he pats Lee on the shoulder. "But uhh… you did warn her though, right? About Blackwell and the reputation it's gotten over the years?"

"…I didn't want to give her a bad impression on her first day. So no, I didn't say a word about it."

"Ha! She might be in for one hell of a shock, then! Those kids definitely ain't like the ones she'll be used to," Nick sniggers as he wipes the oil grease off onto a dry towel nearby. He never went there personally, but all three of them have heard horror stories about how stuck-up and snooty some of the students can be, almost as if they think that they're on top of the fucking magic mountain or something and that all of their peasant followers are getting herded like cattle down below their feet. "But anyways," he discontinues, talking more directly to Luke as Lee prepares to drive off, "where the fuck was Frank today? I thought he wasn't gonna pull anymore shit like this! Have you tried calling his cell or something?"

"He doesn't have one, and I don't know why you keep thinking he does," Luke answers as the two men wave goodbye to Lee, who's exited the building and sped on down the road. "I tried calling the landline, but he hasn't picked up and we basically have no other way of contacting him. Unless of course you'd be willing to drive over to his RV and…?"

"Tsh! Fuck that, I'd rather not get stabbed to death in an alleyway, thank you very much! If he wanted to quit, he could've just said so… He's been pulling this shit for too long now."

Having nothing better to do than to clean up their stations and call it a day (even though it's only one thirty in the afternoon), Luke and Nick keep to themselves as they crank the radio up and rock out to their favourite tunes. They'd look like a pair of monumental dorks if anyone had seen them like this, but seeing as how they're both self-employed and have no other workers in here to help today, they can let their inner rock star shine through in full. Luke's thankful that their pipe dream of travelling across the countryside with a full case of beer and no set destination never really took flight, and although this might not be the most glamorous of positions, it's enough to suit the two of them.

Neither of the young men can really ask for much more than that.

Not even ten minutes after the radio's been blasted, however, has it been turned down as Luke scrunches his face in confusion; worried that they might have to replace the electrical cables that power other machines too. As he goes to investigate, Nick has already beaten him to it as he stands face to face with a couple of uniform-wearing police officers. Neither of them look too pleased to be here.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," the cop says with a curt nod. "If you don't mind, could you please sit down somewhere that we can have a chat? We'd like to talk about your employee, Frank Bowers."

* * *

It's been one day at Blackwell, and Clementine's already starting to have mixed feelings about the place – practically polar opposite notions of what's great and what's shit around here.

On the one hand, the art scene around here is absolutely breathtaking at times. The campus just comes to life in the fall, and she's found it surprising how buzzing the activity can be around the school when Arcadia Bay is such a tiny place. During her lunch break, Clem had sat underneath a shady tree and drew for nearly an hour without stopping, only doing so upon realizing that most of the other students had gone back inside for their afternoon classes. The blank pages of her scrapbook are still begging to be filled with all the vibrant colours of the surrounding areas.

On the other hand, the usual high school bullshit that she had thought would be behind her has actually come back in full force – maybe even _more _so. Without any warning, Clem had been thrust into this whirlwind of cattiness, backstabbing and gossip, none of which interests her in the slightest. If people have to constantly talk behind each other's backs, play dirty and harmful pranks as well as constantly try to put each other down just so that they can fit into a certain clique, then the girl's not so sure that she'll even survive the wrath of this place. One thing she can be thankful for is that she doesn't have to put up with quite that amount of nonsense since she just lives at Lee's house, and doesn't have to deal with this Victoria person – the Queen of Mean as some have taken to calling her.

_More like Queen Bitch, _Clementine thinks sourly, watching in silence as she and her little posse start picking on a girl down the hallway. It irks her just to be a bystander to the verbal attacks that the girl is trying to withstand, but this is a new school and a new set of untold rules. If Clementine steps out of line too early, then it could spell doom for weeks to come.

"Maybe you should get a change in attire, huh Kate? And maybe a little plastic surgery on your face so that people won't recognize you at all," Victoria teases, her words breaking Kate down to the core as angry tears start to collect in her eyes. "But now that I think of it, maybe you should just embrace your celebrity! Your video's already gone viral over the internet, so perhaps cashing in on that success would be a win-win! Do us all a favour, alright? Head on down to the sidewalk and start parading around – I'm sure that your skills in that video could line up with being a prostitute. Sad face…"

_Who the fuck even talks like that?! _she thinks to herself bitterly.

Clementine can hear the choked sobs from way down the hall as she tries to focus on organizing her locker, but the cries are almost drowned out by the chuckling of Victoria and her wicked, dastardly crew. How anyone could say such a thing is beyond her comprehension, but Clem just chooses to keep her head down as the three of them start walking in the direction she's in.

_Just play it cool – don't even acknowledge them_, she tells herself despite gripping her textbook so tightly that knuckles are turning white. She knows that they're whispering about her right now as they pass by, asking who this new chick is and why she's wearing this grimy-ass hat on her head, but fortunately for Clem, they leave almost as quickly as their gums flap about.

"…screw it," she mutters as she gives up on trying to keep her locker neat; tossing a binder into the back and watching as the books come tumbling down in a heap. It's not as if she's really going to keep it completely spotless all year round anyways, so Clem really doesn't mind its dishevelled appearance right now.

Turning her head slowly to the left, Clem frowns as she looks upon the more pressing issue – Kate Marsh, sitting on the dirty floor and looking as if she really doesn't give two shits about anything anymore. They haven't met, but Clementine somehow can actually feel as though she has some sort of connection with the teen. Empathy would be too strong a word for this, since she doesn't know exactly what Kate's going through… but the pain is definitely similar.

Despite wanting to lay low for the first little while, given what she knows about a certain murder in the area, Clementine can't help but shut her locker door and slowly walk towards the troubled girl. Maybe there's something that she could do about all of this. Maybe she can be the light in this girl's life and really make a difference at this new school.

Maybe all Kate really needs is a friend.

"Umm… hey there…" she awkwardly waves to the girl, getting only a slight reaction as she twirls her foot in a circle. "So… my name's Clementine, and I'm kind of new here. So I was kind of just wondering if you could possibly – "

"…are you in the Vortex Club?"

Puzzled, Clementine arches an eyebrow as Kate finally looks up to her with bright red, puffy eyes. Clem's heart nearly breaks in two as she sees how emotionally damaged she truly is – clearly this bullying hasn't been a just a one-time deal, and the effects have battered her deeply.

"Huh? Vortex Club?" she asks in confusion. "What's that? Some sort of… tornado-watching group or something?"

"Are you in with Victoria, Courtney, Taylor and the rest of them? Did they send you over here to finish the fucking job?!" Kate glares, even though deep down Clem can see that she's struggling to hold it all together. "Because if you are then just… don't bother, alright? You people have already taken away my dignity and whatever self-worth I may have had left… what more could you possibly want from me? Are you all that damn insecure?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on there, nobody sent me, I promise! Umm… scout's honour and all that!" Clementine insists, crossing her fist over her heart to try and lighten the conversation a little bit. "Like I said, I'm new – I don't have a clue what the Vortex Club is, or the people inside of it," she explains as Kate, against her better judgement, starts to relent.

Yanking out a tissue and blowing her nose with it, Kate snivels a little bit as she stares straight ahead at the wall across from her and breathes deeply. Most of the other kids have gone back home or back to their dorms, so the hallway is largely silent enough that neither of them will be disturbed.

"…I've never really seen you around here before, so I guess you're not lying to me… Sorry," she apologizes as Clementine carefully takes a seat next to her. "M-my name's Kate, by the way. In case you didn't hear them taunting me over here."

Sticking out a hand and pretending to not have heard that conversation just now, Clementine smiles lightly and engages in a friendly shake. If nothing else would've come out of today besides the drawings she had created, at least Clem's started to make a friendship around here. Good friends are truly hard to come by in many cases, but she can already tell that this could be genuine.

"So I'm guessing the blonde-haired bimbo over there was Victoria?" Clementine asks for confirmation as Kate nods in spite. "What a bunch of assholes… Why would they be bugging you like that?"

As if she feels dead inside just from thinking about the damn thing, Kate brings her knees up to her chest as she slowly spills her guts out to one of the few people around willing to stop and listen. "It… it's all because of some stupid video of me that somebody posted on the internet…" she reveals, wanting to snatch it out of mid-air and rip it into a thousand, tiny pieces. "I couldn't remember what I was doing after, but I know for a fact that I didn't have enough booze to get drunk. I didn't! There was no way that I could've…"

"It's cool, Kate. I believe you…"

Calming herself down a little bit as her tense muscles relax in her shoulders, Kate nods appreciatively as she continues to explain the details of that fateful night – everything from the kids she was partying with, the sickness she felt after having a little bit of red wine, to Nathan Prescott being with her when he said that he'd take her to the hospital. From what she's gathered so far, it doesn't seem like this guy had been true to his word and that some foul play may have gone down… possibly even sexual assault of some kind. There isn't a whole lot for her to reveal, especially since they had only met not even ten minutes ago, but it's certainly enough to start with.

The two of them sit in a comfortable silence for a little while longer, listening to the muffled voices and sounds coming from outside the school walls as the principal nods over to Clementine. She had noticed upon first interacting with him that the man could be quite stern and proud of his position in the school, along with the funding that's come with it, but Clem can't help but sense something underneath all of that; as if there's something he isn't revealing to anyone aside from the teaching staff.

Unfolding a piece of paper that she had found crumpled on the floor early that morning, Clementine flattens out the creases as she stares at the missing persons poster.

"That's Rachel… Rachel Amber," Kate clarifies, as if the name on the top of the poster wasn't clear enough already. "She used to go here, but nobody's seen her in months. Some say that she got pushed off the edge of the cliff up near the lighthouse and thrown into the ocean, and others say that she just ran away without telling anyone where she was going. Nobody really knows for sure, though."

"Hence the posters," Clem concludes, taking a mental note of her facial features and deciding to keep an eye out for the girl in the future. Not even a week in and she's already uncovered more wickedness than she ever had back in Georgia – the death of her parents included. "…well, I don't know exactly how to make it better for you. I wish I knew, but I really don't," Clem mentions, her voice full of sorrow as Kate looks downcast, "but all of that shit that's spewing out of their mouths? Just try to ignore it. Talk is cheap, Kate, especially when it's coming from bullies like Victoria. Trust me – there's always something worse than teasing out there…"

As Kate's eyes light up in realization, Clementine sighs as she realizes that her cover's already been blown to somebody around here. So much for trying to lay low at Blackwell Academy…

"So you're the girl whose…"

"Parents got killed? Yeah… yeah, that's me…" she unveils as if it's some sort of secret identity that she's been holding onto all this time. "I know it's not right of me to ask with all that you're going through, but do you think that we could keep this just between us? Please? I just moved here, and I'd rather it not start getting around…"

Not even giving it a second thought, Kate wipes her eyes once more as she nods and zips her lips; running two fingers across her mouth as Clementine chuckles slightly. The dark undertone of their conversation has got them both feeling pretty down, but they can at least appreciate each other's company and input on the matters at hand.

"I guess talking about it might've actually… done some good after all," Kate exhales, rolling her eyes at how cheesy she thinks she sounds.

Neither of them are aware that Max Caulfield has just listened and observed their entire conversation from a distance, as she scurries away from her spot around the corner and quickly makes her way back towards the dorm. Her heart is racing as she realizes that their witness is now within their grasp.

Feeling more panicked than ever before, Max rushes towards her room and stops to catch her breath after having ran all the way here. Taking out her phone, she quickly pulls up Chloe's contact info as she begins texting in her haste.

_No emoji, I swear this time, but… you'll never guess who showed up at Blackwell…_


	6. Mind tricks

"Ugh… god damn it…"

The hair stylist that had given her the bottle of hair dye beforehand had warned her about the potential bleeding effects that it could have on her scalp – not literal blood, mind you, but the blue, icky substance could still be enough to end up making her look like some kind of blue-faced Oompa Loompa.

Fortunately, this hasn't exactly occurred just yet, with no more than a few dried spots of colour lightly cascading the top of Chloe's forehead near her hairline. Still though, she can see now why the stuff had been so cheap.

Turning on the faucet and waiting for the water to warm up, Chloe scoops a handful into her hands and basks in the refreshing feelings it's giving her. The steam soars to the ceiling as she haphazardly swings her foot back and kicks the door shut behind her, not wanting her Mom or step-douche to come prancing in and giving her a hard time about… well, whatever it is she'd done today to get her into trouble. These days it almost feels as though she'll get yelled at for dropping a bread crumb off of her sandwich.

She wishes that she could wipe away a lifetime of bad memories down the drain along with some of the hair dye. That would certainly take a load off of her mind and put her at ease, and perhaps she could even resort to _not _smoking dope in order to get into her peaceful nirvana. Nothing feels more painful than the realization that your life is going down the tubes, and the fact that it all started on that one fucking day.

As selfish and awful as she feels about this, Chloe can't help but want to blame her Dad for all of these troubles. Her _real _Dad, not this straight as a board, military jackass one that she's been having to deal with for years now. If he hadn't gotten in that car, then he likely wouldn't have gotten into an accident, and her life would be completely perfect. Max wouldn't have left on bad terms, she'd be a lot more stable at home (probably), and maybe she would've felt more obliged to actually try at Blackwell Academy, instead of flunking out and just barely scraping by on selling hardcore drugs. Why did he choose to go get some fucking groceries on that day out of any of them?! It's not fair!

…but truth be told, that's just the hurt and need talking. The man left a gaping hole in her heart, as corny as she thinks that may sound. Chloe hasn't felt as strong a connection like the one she had before with anyone besides her father, with the possible exception of Max. But even that's stagnated over time.

Five years without as much as a phone call will do that to you.

"_Chloe? Are you using up all the hot water? You know we need to conserve that so we don't get billed too high!"_

Judging by the tone in her voice that Joyce means business, Chloe groans audibly before shutting the tap off and going over to grab a towel from the rack. Wiping her soaking hair down until it becomes a frizzy mess, she looks herself over once in the mirror and gives her head a shake; secretly feeling pretty troubled and disconnected with herself. It's almost as if this punk-rock persona that she's been adapting over the years has been nothing more than a sham, a façade that she had placed upon herself to break away from what she was before. Deep down inside is the spunky, fourteen year old girl wanting to bust out of her prison and go back to how she was before.

None of this can come to pass though. Without the cash to pack up and leave, Chloe's been having to make do in Arcadia Bay, despite not being entirely honest with Max when she had mentioned wanting to blow the place to smithereens. She's got roots here, but they've become brittle and dull as of late. There's much less in terms of emotional attachments to keep her glued to the spot in Oregon.

If only she had some idea where Rachel was… she usually had the brains to back up Chloe's crazy schemes.

Felling her phone buzz against her thigh in the front pocket of her jeans, Chloe reaches down as the screen flickers to life, revealing the caller ID as Max's face shows up.

Making sure to take the call in a place where nobody will be listening in, Chloe tiptoes from the bathroom before darting the rest of the way to her room; shutting her door and leaning a chair up against the knob. A little paranoia might not be uncalled for after witnessing Frank get annihilated by an oncoming train.

"Yello?" she chirps, so used to addressing her friend over the phone that way. They've done it ever since they were kids – kept the conversations a lot more light-hearted.

"_Didn't you read my text, Chloe?"_

"Nope… was I supposed to?" she replies while leaning her head back against the bed frame; stretching her legs out and relaxing for the time being. "Chillax, _Maxine_ – we're talking now, aren't we? What's going on? You sound all uptight and shit."

Hearing static on the other end of the line for a moment, Chloe waits impatiently as she drums her fingers over the bedspread. The cellphone reception around Arcadia has been really spotty lately, which is weird since normally it's really crisp and clean.

Coughing once as she clears her throat, Max's voice returns to an urgent whisper as she returns. _"This is serious! That girl that we saw at the junkyard? The one in the blue and white hat?"_ Max mentions, catching the teen's attention as she sits upright slightly. Chloe knows exactly what this call is about. _"Well, she's here! At Blackwell! I've got no idea what to do!"_

Absentmindedly biting her fingernails, Chloe glances out the window and jolts a little bit on the spot as yet another bird smacks into the glass and reaches its demise. That's six this week, all within nearly the same spot. She had considered earlier trying to bury them as some kind of means of respect (Chloe's always been fond of animals), but staying out of the county jail for being the accomplice to a murder has kept her a little preoccupied.

And suddenly, the one witness to the crime has once again made her way onto the scene.

Chloe knew this would happen. Maybe not exactly like this, mind you, but one way or another she had figured that that wouldn't be the last that they'd see of that slithery vixen. It was just a matter of _when_, and apparently fate has determined that now would be the best time for the cards to get stacked against them.

But fuck that! Chloe's always believed that you make your own destiny, and she's determined to work around this obstacle!

"_Hello? You still there?"_

"Yeah, just got distracted for a moment…" she admits, likely only further fueling Max's worries. "Just chill, alright? We've got this – it's nothing that you and I can't handle if we use our heads."

"_You're not the one having to go to the same school as her!"_

"Which is why you're going to be doing most of the grunt work on this one," Chloe reasons, continuing as if Max hadn't even spoken at all. "Lemme coach you through it, alright? Time to put on your sneaking skills and get them to work for ya! Don't forget, Max – you've got super powers! You can make the world _bow_! Doing something like this should be a piece of cake!"

Listening as Max sighs in exhaustion on the other end, Chloe heads back over to the window as she slides it open and frowns in sadness. Looks like this birdy didn't join its fellows on the ground, not that they should be up there anyways. Blue jays have always been one of her favourite species, having always been captivated not only by the colour of their beautiful feathers, but by how majestic and rare they looked while in flight. No restrictions, no rules, no weights holding them down. Just the freedom to go wherever the hell they pleased… there was something to be said about that.

Feeling a little sick to be doing this, but knowing that it's necessary in order to not get sick herself, Chloe snaps a twig off of a nearby tree and sets herself carefully on the roof. Next, with no small amount of dexterity and grace, Chloe starts to move the dead bird over towards the eavestrough; moving her wrist until the creature falls onto the grass below.

_Be at peace, little guy, _Chloe thinks to herself, tossing the twig over the fence and hurrying back to her room – just in time to relay her instructions. "Alright, Max. Here's what you need to do…"

* * *

"…she's over with Kate, but I think that they're done talking…"

"_Good. Is she heading out the door? If she is, then keep a good distance away and follow her ass! Hide behind corners and trees and shit if you have to."_

Taking a deep breath, Max nods even though her friend can't see her, and heads down the hall when Kate passes by with her head held down. It's pretty depressing seeing her like this, but that heartbreak is squandered right now for her desire to track this girl down.

She's got no idea what to do when the inevitable comes to pass and she's forced to confront this girl, but Max supposes that she'll cross that bridge when she gets to it. One step at a time is what she needs to do.

Nearly getting hit in the head with a flying disk as some of the other girls toss it around, Clementine ducks and quickly jogs ahead to the sidewalk without missing a beat. Max quickly waves to Alyssa and hops over the schoolyard fence before she can even say hello, all the while maintaining a suitable distance away from the mysterious girl to avoid detection.

Because you know, all she needs is for the teen to turn around and start screaming to the heavens that Max is a god damned murderer… nothing frightening about that at all.

"_I bet you look totally bad ass doing this stealth mission right now!"_

"That's not really what I'm concerned about, Chloe," Max replies, but still unable to resist sniggering at that a little bit. Chloe's got that effect on her. "…though I do feel pretty hard core. Man, a couple of weeks back with you, and already I'm in serious shit! Did you plan this or something?"

"_Shh! Less talkie, more followie!"_

Doing as she's been instructed, Max crouches down low and speeds up when the girl turns left and disappears behind the corner of a brick wall. So far she's managed to stay almost perfectly out of sight, with no hiccups to disrupt her master plan. She's had it in mind for a few minutes now of how she wants to play this and how she wants to confront her, but the possibilities are endless as to what could happen. Mugging her and backing the girl into a dark alley isn't an option, since not only will it freak her the fuck out but it also wouldn't look too inconspicuous out in the more cluttered part of town. One scream for help and it'd be game over.

…of course, it'd never hurt to try, and she pretty much has all the time in the world…

"…screw it," Max mumbles, hustling as she sprints down the sidewalk and prepares to either tackle the girl to the ground, or at least get the jump on her so that she can rewind and end up directly behind. Whichever method works best is the one she's going to finish this odd with.

Nearly twisting her ankle as she skids to a stop, Max whips her head to the left and tries to catch up, only to realize that there's nobody on this sidewalk at all. Following this street would lead her almost all the way to the Five Whales, but where could she have gone? There's nothing around here except…

"You lost?"

Nearly jumping out of her own skin, Max falls to the pavement as the same girl steps forth from the shadows, having been hiding behind a dumpster in anticipation. Playing it off as exactly that, Max quickly nods her head and dusts the dirt off of her knees. Maybe she should just take this to wherever it leads and see how it goes…

Unless of course this girl decides to pull out a knife or a gun of her own; ending it or at least trying to get Max to leave her alone. Neither of those are very fun alternatives.

"Y-yeah actually…" Max chuckles in embarrassment, highly doubting that the girl wouldn't recognize her. Something about the golden fire in this girl's eyes is throwing her off the beaten path completely. "I was, uh… just heading out from school and I had saw you walking by yourself. Figured you might know your way around."

Perplexed and slightly perturbed, the girl slightly tilts her head to the side as her hair lightly sways underneath her ball cap. "Right…" she mutters as her eyes turn ice cold for a moment, retaining their neutral look only seconds later.

_She knows, _Max thinks to herself, obviously recognizing the signs as the teen folds her arms across her chest. But if she knows about the killing and had witnessed it herself, then why is she acting so natural about it?

With a time rewind ability basically tucked away in her back pocket in case this all goes to hell, Max decides that being straight up and demanding information would be a good first step. It's helped her talk to people in the past, even though technically she's cheating… well, _life _basically. Under normal circumstances, she probably wouldn't have been able to connect with even half the kids at Blackwell, regardless of the circles they may have gathered towards. Skaters, punkers, Vortex Club, bookworms, photo nuts… none of that would've mattered.

Clearing her throat, Max steps forward and drops the nice girl act entirely.

"I know that you saw what happened… out in the junkyard with my friend and I," she insinuates, noticing the slight twitch in the girl's eye as she tries to keep a confused expression. "I doubt that you'll believe me, but there was no other way around it. Chloe – my friend – would be dead if I hadn't done what I did. I couldn't let that happen, regardless of what you may have seen. Frank had to die in order for her to live, so… there."

"…what do you mean you killed someone?"

Max's heart skips a beat in worry and excitement over this revelation. Does this kid really not know what transpired? Did… did she somehow erase the girl's memory?

Studying her face for a brief second, Max tries to find any doubt or lies within the girl's countenance. She's shaking of course, since it's not every day that you come face to face with a killer, but either the girl has an incredibly effective poker face, or she truly doesn't remember the death.

But… if she doesn't know, and the timeline truly was messed up so badly, then how would Chloe possibly remember?

"You… you don't know?" Max asks dumbly, stepping forward in case she tries to take off. "Come on now, you… you must remember _something! _I didn't go through all of this trouble for you to straight up lie to me!"

"I… I have no idea who you are or what you're talking about…" she insists, backing up and smacking my hand away as her fists clench. The fear in her eyes tells Max that she's been putting up a charade – the only question is why. "Get away from me… just… just leave me alone! I'll… I'll…"

"Call the cops?" she concludes, feeling the anxiety gripping her tightly as she gives up trying to chase her. What would be the point if she can just reverse time and have her standing right back where she was before? It'd be a waste of energy, especially when she needs all that she can get.

With one flick of the wrist and a hand held out in front of her, the world starts to spin as the cars reverse from where they were driving down the street. Squirrels scurry back down the tree and onto the sidewalk, looking for nuts or whatever it is they can scrounge up. Winter is coming, and clearly Max has been watching too much Game of Thrones.

Even some of the clouds roll back slightly, only seeming to move an inch from where Max is standing. She can even feel the breeze coming through from the opposite direction of where it went before, as the cool wind brushes past her shoulders.

All of this is going on – time is being bent to her will, and all seems as if it will be perfectly normal again.

"Wh-what the fuck?!"

The girl stands there in shock; completely baffled and terrified of what she's seeing as Max nearly has her eyes pop out of her sockets.

The girl isn't getting affected by her time powers, and is experiencing the same sensation that Max has been going through for weeks now.

As time reverses to its normal state, Max, seemingly out of breath, collapses to her knees as the girl towers over her with her fists clenched tightly.

"What the hell did you just do…" she trails off, grasping Max by the collar and glaring fearfully into her eyes.


	7. With great power

"_I bet you look totally badass doing this stealth mission right now!"_

"Who's that?" the girl asks, still looking rattled as she snatches Max's phone out of her grasp and puts the device to her ear. Her spunky friend has just repeated herself without even being aware of it. Chloe wouldn't have even noticed that a single thing has changed, but somehow this same chick from Max's vision actually _does?!_ How the hell does that work?!

Dusting off the initial shock for just a moment, and secretly thankful that the girl didn't pull a knife against her throat or anything, Max shakes her head and tries to grab the phone back, but the girl's as strong as she is stubborn, so it's no easy task.

"Listen up, are you that blue-haired bitch from before?! Yeah, I bet you'd know who I am!" she outbursts, feeling that such an occasion calls for her to be a little forward and direct with these people. "It's Clementine, not that that's any of your business! Now you're going to explain to me just what the hell is going on! Why did your friend just… gah! I don't even know!"

"Look, if you'd just give me the phone back, then I could – "

"_Max?! Are you alright?! I'm coming down there, just keep her in sight! This little shit better not lay one finger on you, or else…"_

"Me?! Ha! I'm not the one here who murders people, jackass!" Clementine rebukes, swearing under her breath as Max manages to quickly swipe her phone back. "You'd better not have a gun on you right now…"

Holding her hands up and out in front of her, Max tries to dissolve the tension in the area before trying to explain herself as best she can. "Look… I know that probably seemed _really _messed up… and I know you've got questions…" she elaborates, realizing that that's probably the understatement of the century. "But in order for me to answer them, you're going to have to trust me."

"More like not rat you out to the cops!"

"That too…" Max shrugs, finding it incredibly difficult to justify the act she had committed. At least this girl wasn't around for the aftermath. "It's… Clementine, right? That's what your name is?" she questions, continuing as she nods her head slowly. "Alright, well… why don't we find a better place to talk than this? Somewhere that we won't be overheard."

Chuckling bitterly, Clementine immediately shakes her head and folds her arms across her chest.

"What, so you can take me out to the woods to have me killed for squealing on you? Thanks, but I'd rather take my chances out in broad daylight," she sarcastically quips as Max sighs in exasperation. The girl can understand why Clementine would be so hesitant about this, but between trying to convince her along with just recently finding out that she isn't affected by the time powers… it's getting a little difficult to keep her patience in check.

Still though, if it will at least get the teen to talk to her, then Max is willing to go with the flow.

"Chloe, could you come meet us down by the school? No, it's not a disaster, so _please _don't come here swinging!" Max chuckles over the phone, turning her back on Clementine for just a moment. "…alright, I'll see you in a bit, then. Later, hipster!"

_Lee would kill me if he found out I was doing this, _Clementine thinks to herself, leaning up against the bark of a nearby tree and shivering slightly as a cool breeze blows by. Being so close to the ocean in the colder months isn't always a great thing. Zipping her jacket up a little bit more, she makes sure that her bare neck is covered from the cross-breeze as Max hangs up the phone and turns back to her frightened patron.

Clearing her throat, Max awkwardly stands there as Clementine stares her down in anticipation. Max had never really been much for small talk back home in Seattle, but had made a conscious decision to try and be a little more open with people upon coming to Arcadia Bay. It certainly isn't perfect, and could definitely use some work in some areas, but it's been a necessity – Max hadn't known a single person when she returned, and it's not as if she had tried to give Chloe a ring at first. Arcadia Bay wasn't the same town that she had remembered growing up, and it still isn't.

But maybe, like time itself, things change and adapt of their own accord. They don't just sit around and wait for things to happen to them, just like Mr. Jefferson has been drilling into her head over the past few weeks.

"I don't know if you're going to believe this, but I have… powers. _Time _powers, and I can prove it to you," she starts off, practically leaving Clementine staring in surprise right off the bat. "Watch – I'll tell you what's going to happen within the next few sec –"

"How could I see what you did back there? Why was everyone else besides us going backwards… in time?" Clementine interrupts, clearly already somewhat believing this story after witnessing it firsthand. As Max lifts her hand up again and concentrates, clenching her teeth and having to hold her head for a brief moment, Clementine glances around her.

Not only has time been somewhat reversed, but things seem to be running in almost slow-motion around them. A couple of joggers are moving at little more than a fraction of a mile per hour, a fly's wings are actually somewhat visible as they flap in the air, and a driver's mouth slowly starts to go wide open in rage as somebody starts to cut him off in traffic. It's actually pretty comical, but Clementine can barely find any words to say.

Stunned, she tries to lift her hand up and softly rub her fingertips against the wings of a blue-winged butterfly that's slowly starting to flow away; acting squeamish at the touch.

"This takes a lot of concentration…" Max grunts, having to hold her fingers against her temple in order to keep from losing control. "My powers are only good for short bursts, though. But I have no idea how you're not affected… unless…"

"Unless what?" Clementine asks, still glancing at the incredible display around her. She can practically see the tiny fragments of dirt, dust and other particles of the sort as they hang in the air and gleam in the sunlight.

"This is gonna sound strange… but for some reason, I think you're resistant to this thing," Max continues, releasing her hold on the world as everything goes back to normal. Chloe likely won't be here for another five minutes when in actuality she should've been here by now. "Maybe all of this is connected somehow," she mentions, not wanting to reveal the fact that she saw this girl in one of her visions just yet. That day may come, but not until they get a better understanding of one another first.

Unable to wrap her head around this, Clem briefly takes her father's hat off for a moment and rubs her fingers through her dark hair. "This can't be real… you… you're… how?" she stutters, starting to question now whether her assumptions about this girl were true or not. From what she's just experienced today, so far Clementine would have to admit that she's mostly been wrong – _dead wrong_, in fact. "Nothing about this makes sense to me…"

"You're preaching to the choir on that one. I've been trying to figure this out for almost a month now."

"So what I saw back there…" Clem trails off, turning around to the time traveller as she holds her hands out in front of her, "that was… did you go back in time then, too?"

Nodding her head, Max sighs in relief as Chloe's beaten-up pickup truck pulls over to the side of the road. Just in time, too, as it seems that Clementine may be starting to see things from their point of view.

"And… that man you shot back there… Why?"

As Chloe steps out from the front, giving an icy glare to the back of Clementine's head, Max motions for her to wait one second in order for them to finish. This could be a defining moment for all three of them, and possibly start to connect their destinies together.

That is, if you really believe in fate and that sort of thing.

"Here," Max encourages, reaching her hand out towards Clementine's forehead as the girl wonders what kind of magic trick she's trying to pull. "Let me show you."

* * *

Adjusting the little dreamcatcher that she's got on the rear-view mirror, Chloe silently drives on down the dusty road; bored out of her mind and pretty ticked that she's had to drive all the way to the other side of town for this drop-off. What would normally be a relaxing trip to her bedroom in order to get high and prepare for whatever insane gimmick she'd be up to this evening has instead turned into basically a taxi service – an "Uber" driver, pretty much.

She's not exactly in her preferred company, to be sure, as not only does Clementine not talk a whole lot to begin with, but she's still trying to figure out if what she saw was true. Was that actually what would've happened had Max not stepped in like that? Or did the duo simply put her on one hell of a drug trip?

Braking a little bit too hard as she narrowly halts at the stop sign, Chloe turns left as the houses start to become progressively smaller. Many of the buildings in this part of Arcadia Bay are townhouses, looking almost identical to each other with the only real noticeable differences being the vehicles parked in the driveways, along with some of the flowers in the tiny gardens out in front. But even those generally look similar to each other around here.

Welcome to suburban America, Chloe always used to joke. Land of the clones.

"You were seriously gonna walk all this way?" Chloe ponders, finally breaking the silence between them after what had felt like hours of endless monotony. "Geez, kid… This would've taken you over an hour at least. Don't you have parents or a sibling to come pick you up?"

"…no."

"What, they won't do it? Or they can't do it?"

Realizing that Chloe doesn't really know about the circumstances which brought her over here in the first place, Clementine chooses not to go into further detail about her personal life. That's on a need to know basis only. "I transferred over from Atlanta… just to come over for the arts program," she says, not entirely lying as that was a valid reason for choosing Blackwell in the first place. "I've been staying with my uncle for the time being. He's working around this time, and the buses don't travel out this way very often."

Whistling in astonishment, Chloe rests her head against her fist as she keeps the other one firmly on the wheel. "Wow, you're definitely not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy," she quotes, loving to reference movie and tv show lines when she's able to. "Sorry if _Black Hell _has turned out to be a major disappointment, then."

Turning her head to the driver, Clementine arches an eyebrow in confusion. Aside from the bullies, which pretty much appear no matter where you end up, her experience so far hasn't actually been that bad.

Noticing her doubtful glance, Chloe rolls her eyes and chuckles bitterly; still somewhat harboring a resentment to that place. "Don't tell me you haven't figured out what's going on yet," she remarks while dodging some of the cars that have been parked on the side of the street. "Your school is corrupt – the security guard, the teachers, the principal… they're all being bought off by the Prescott family."

"Who are they?"

Reminded of that time in the bathroom with Nathan and the gun, Chloe grips the wheel a little bit harder and frowns deeply. "Bunch of rich snobs, the lot of 'em. Picture your stereotypical wealthy, stuck-up, assholish family, and bam! There ya go," she snaps her fingers for added effect, mentioning how they're one of the most influential families around. "They practically bought and paid for that school to keep running, so none of your teachers will say a word if their son happens to get into serious shit. Hell, they practically run this fucking town!"

Taking all of this information in, Clementine tries to juggle her feelings and judge whether or not Chloe's telling her the full story. Aside from not meeting on the greatest terms, her and Max have actually been pretty straight forward with her, all things considered.

"Well… if they're doing something illegal, then why doesn't anyone go to the police?" she asks as Chloe squints her eyes at something up ahead.

"They practically _own _the police around here – nobody screws with them without facing something worse than getting their asses thrown in jail," Chloe responds, stopping suddenly on the side of the road as Clementine is thrown forwards; only getting saved by the seatbelt as she wonders what's going on.

Switching off the ignition and placing her panda bear keychain into her jean pocket, Chloe reaches over to the front compartment in front of Clem's lap as she digs around for a plastic baggie stuffed inside.

It takes Clem only a split second to recognize what's inside.

"You're a drug dealer?" Clementine questions, even though in hindsight she could already kind of tell based on the way she acts. "What are you gonna do? Go up to some random people and offering them some doobie rolls?"

"I've dealt to them before, smartass. Now stay put – I'll be back in a flash," she answers, not giving any time to argue as she closes the door behind her and starts casually walking over to the group of two boys and one girl; looking both ways for any people watching the exchange.

"I could probably just have walked the rest of the way…" Clementine mumbles, sighing and looking out the window as Chloe digs into her pocket and pulls out the weed. A few hits of those would likely send these kids on their asses, as they don't even look as if they've hit seventeen years of age yet.

A part of her just wants to hop out and leave, but another part of her actually wants to watch this go down in full – not as a spectator from afar, but on a more up close and personal approach. The adventurous side of her brain is starting to kick into overdrive.

Deciding to go and witness this for herself, Clementine quietly unlocks the door and wanders over to the drug deal herself, wondering why the three of them are looking so antsy about it. It's not as if the stuff is completely illegal in Oregon anymore.

"…so, can I put you down for this much?" Chloe asks her customers, who quickly nod and pull out a thin wad of cash that Clementine frowns at a little bit. Something seems off about those bills…

"This should last us for that Halloween party coming up. At least it might make the thing a little more fucking bearable," one of the teens grumble, although his face brightens up a little bit upon glancing at the substance in the plastic bag. "Cool – Mark, give her the cash and let's get out of here."

"Hold on for just a second…"

Glancing towards Clementine as she intrudes upon the circle, she's about to examine the money when she's abruptly stopped by Chloe as she places a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Who the hell is she? Did you rat us out or something?!" Mark insinuates, believing in his paranoia that this is all some sort of scam or set-up.

Shaking her head, Chloe frowns at Clem as she tries to hold her down. "I told you to stay in the truck…"

"Look at that twenty dollar bill for a second," Clem suggests as she ignores the request and pulls out a twenty from her own pocket. "This is an actual bill, see? The hair on Andrew Jackson's head is parted on the left," she explains, proving her point as Chloe holds the bills that the teens gave her in comparison. "Now take a look at theirs. Spot the differences yet?"

Upon closer inspection, Chloe realizes that she's got a point. None of the bills that the teens had given her match to what an actual one is supposed to look like, with the hair being parted differently, the cheekbones being more subdued, and even the logo on the side of the president's picture doesn't even completely match. A poor attempt to fool someone into believing that this is legit, and not quite as worthless as Monopoly money would've been.

In other words…

"You fuckers were trying to cheat me!" Chloe accuses, tosses the bills back in their faces as the teens all stand there looking petrified. "How long do you think you were going to get away with this shit, huh? Trying to rip me off like some sort of idiot… what the hell do you take me for?!"

"W-we didn't know they were fake! Honest! Some people were just giving them away to-" Mark tries to explain, but his pleas are cut off as Chloe kicks him right between the legs and hustles back to the truck with Clem and the weed in tow.

Giving the three little squirts the finger before speeding away down the road, Chloe roughly hits the steering wheel with her fist and rubs her eyes tiredly.

"Damn it… that probably means they duped me the last time, too. Shitballs!" she swears, making a sharp U-turn after missing the street that she was supposed to turn onto. With a lot of reluctance, Chloe lightly nudges Clementine on the arm in appreciation. "Hey… so uh, thanks for backing me up there. I probably wouldn't have been able to tell otherwise," she tells her, sporting a puzzled expression only seconds later. "How'd you know they were fakes, though?"

Shrugging her shoulders and brushing it off as if it wasn't anything special, Clementine recalls back to her time as a young teenager spending many of her summer days out at her cousin's house. "My uncle Bud used to work as a bank teller – he showed me a lot about this kind of thing," she clarifies, looking out the window again as her house starts to come into view. "This is me up on the right. Thanks for the ride, and… sorry, you know… about calling you a blue-haired bitch and everything."

Managing to smirk a little bit, Chloe pulls up to her driveway and spots Clementine's uncle Lee driving in his car and coming close behind them. "Definitely not the worst thing I've been called, so don't sweat it," she remarks, stopping the girl just before she exits the vehicle. "Wait," she says, sporting a more serious look this time around. "About Max… despite what you might have seen, she's actually a really good person to have around. So… don't judge her based off what went down with Frank, alright? She's… she's my best friend, and I pretty much owe her my life at this point…"

"Umm… yeah… yeah sure, Chloe…" Clem nods, willing to try her best after having seen that what they said was true. All of those different scenarios, and only one result that ended up being even remotely positive… That would probably send her over the edge, too.

Watching as she drives away and Lee instead pulls into the driveway after apparently gathering some groceries, all Clementine really wants to do is sleep. What a fucking day it's been. Sleep would definitely be a boon right now.

Sleep, and also thinking about Max's apparent time-reversal powers, and how she (and only she) can somehow keep self-aware whenever she actually uses them.

She can't help but wonder just how far back the girl can actually go with this gift. Has she reached her limit and full potential?

Or is this just the start of what she can hope to accomplish?

* * *

"Have you seen the video yet, Max? Come on, check it out! You'll _die _laughing!" Juliet promises as she and Brooke stand near the exit to their dorm room, both seeming to have the time of their lives as they chuckle and giggle away.

Max knows exactly what video they're watching right now, and she isn't laughing. Not even a little bit. It didn't take her rewind power this time around to figure out just who it is they're all poking fun of.

Telling her to shut the video down and explaining to them the error of their ways, Max can't help but feel horrible for Kate. The girl had confided in her earlier this week about how messed up things were getting in her life, and although Max had advised against trying to call the police about the issue, she secretly kind of wishes now that she had. Even with her time rewind, Max wouldn't be able to foresee the messed up stuff that was bound to happen. Now not only does the entire school know about that dumb video, but people all over the internet have started joining in on the bullying.

Thankfully being able to stop Juliet from spreading this even further, seeing's how she had gotten help from her earlier, Max sighs and decides that a trip to the washroom is in order. Maybe a nice, cold splash of water over her face will be enough to temporarily settle her down.

_Way too much has happened today, _Max internalizes. _I still couldn't believe it when Clementine was still moving in front of me… but what does it all mean? Is there some kind of sign that I'm just not aware of? Does it have something to do with my vision? That's… that's the only explanation I can think of… that tornado vision…_

Feeling that asking too many questions after such a stress-filled day will only give her an even bigger headache, Max opens the door to the washroom and scrunches her face up in disgust at what she sees – the link to the video, spread in red lipstick with the words "Enjoy ;)" written in a messy scribble beside it.

No doubt this was the work of Victoria in an effort to increase its infamy even further. Why she constantly has to do these horribly mean things to people Max will never know.

"Hopefully this'll keep at least a few people from watching it, Kate," Max mumbles to herself, frowning when she hears some muffled sobs coming from down the hallway somewhere.

Knowing exactly who it could be, she quickly splashes the water on herself and rubs her eyes a little before venturing back out into the hall; not caring that she isn't completely dry yet.

Some people are having _real _concerns right now.


	8. Out of time

"No… not this again… Why is this happening so soon?" Max wonders aloud, holding a hand out in front of her to try and prevent the harsh winds and rain from pelting down onto her face. Her clothes and hair are absolutely drenched as she shivers from the cold, barely being able to see three feet in front of her without the occasional crack of lightning giving her an extremely brief sense of what she is walking towards.

Yet somehow, she can still manage to find the strength to move forward, just like all of the other obstacles she has come across already. Twice now she has had to use her rewind power in order to keep from getting crushed by some towering, falling trees, with both encounters almost indefinitely being a life or death situation. With one flick of the wrist, she has suddenly become the most gifted and powerful person on the planet – possibly the entire universe, if Chloe's excited mutterings to her before were any indication.

But Chloe isn't here – her best friend and partner in time, and so Max continues to feel almost as vulnerable as a newborn baby. That day in the bathroom couldn't have been an accident, as she had come to realize, since not only was Chloe somehow the trigger to her omnipotent powers, but without even realizing that she was in danger, Max had felt compelled to step in. She certainly was a hero that day, despite feeling as though she doesn't deserve that title.

Shivering as the storm water chills her to the bone, Max feels her muscles tighten up as she grasps onto a fallen log, pulls herself up and slides herself over.

_Lighthouse, Max. Get to the lighthouse, _she encourages herself. _You've seen this before, and it's just the same as the other times. Make it to the end – that's the goal. Something will be waiting for you, so just accept it… But why does this storm feel… angrier… than usual?_

Her thoughts haven't betrayed her eyes, since up in the distance, the groaning of metal can be heard as various wires, steel support beams and even various assortments of thin concrete are thrust about and quickly start to snap and break. It's no secret as to why – not with the tornado coming in closer and closer to the shore and sending massive waves of destruction to go tumbling around like a carnival ride.

_But I thought tornados formed on land? What… what the hell is going on here? Is this some kind of freak force of nature?_

Using her rewind power just in the nick of time, Max quickly steps to the side as a large, metal sheet from the lighthouse comes whipping past her and smacking down the muddy hill below. An impact from that would've sent her sky-rocketing to her death.

However, this is but the tip of the iceberg, as almost in one fell swoop, the entire top of the lighthouse is practically ripped from its pedestal and thrown down the edge of the cliff; taking out a chunk of land mass before barreling down to the jagged rocks below.

"Holy shit…" she mutters, peeking her head over the side as she sees the little dots of people all scurrying over by the beach. Some of them are running for their lives, others are trying to barricade themselves underneath sand, rock, vehicles and whatever else they can find, while some of the crazier souls have actually started to stand right near the water's edge. They're holding each other's hands in a straight line while one girl stands in front of them all; raising up a flashlight as she waves it back and forth.

The tornado inches closer towards them, but from the little that Max can tell, at this distance it looks as though none of them are afraid. It's almost like watching a cult trying to stop an oncoming train simply by standing in front of it and believing that something will save them. Max can't help but feel a little creeped out by it.

"They've given up their lives just to see if their faiths will be rewarded," comes an emotionless voice as Max jumps in surprise; getting so startled that she nearly falls off the edge. "This place is the only home they've ever known – if they're going to die, then this is where they want to be."

"…Arcadia Bay is their final resting place?" Max ponders, finding it strange that she would ask this question first instead of wondering who this mystery person actually is. "But… why? Why would they give up? How could they have let their hope go so quickly?"

"Isn't it obvious, Max? You of all people should know. After all," she remarks lowly, finally turning her head so that she can get a good look at who she's talking to, "you're the one who knew this would eventually happen…"

"C-Clementine?!" she gapes, finding it difficult to believe that this is the same girl she had only recently met. Her hat has a large blood stain right where the white patch meets the blue beak, her cheeks are hollowed out, and her hair (still tied in two pig tails) is a frivolous mess.

Her eyes are what really terrifies Max, however. The usual yellow glow that had entranced her from the beginning has largely faded, leaving a broken shell in its place. Her pupils are dim and devoid of any happy qualities, replaced instead with a dull grey. One can almost say that the eighteen year old girl is practically dead inside.

Almost as if completely out of nowhere, Clementine roughly clenches a fist and knocks Max in the side of the head, causing her to stumble backwards as she tries (and fails) to use her rewind powers again. Another hit to the head has Max witnessing an annoying ring in her ears that she finds it difficult to remove, even with the tornado howling in the background.

Grasping her roughly by the shirt collar, Clementine stares angrily at Max as she starts throwing accusations left and right; the storm that surrounds them making the scene look like something out of a horror movie. "You couldn't save them!" she rants, with Max wondering who exactly she's actually talking about right now. "You couldn't save ANYONE! I trusted you but you let me down!"

Trying to claw at her face like she did to Nathan Prescott proves useless as Clementine's grip moves to Max's neck, squeezing harder and harder as she finds it more difficult to breathe.

"…st-stop… I… I can't…" Max chokes, feeling her face grow hot as the blood starts to rush to her head. Oxygen right now is getting to a limited supply.

Feeling the cold barrel of a gun being placed up against her ribcage, Max's brain goes into overdrive as she starts to freak and lash out. Not this again!

"They'd still be alive if it wasn't for you…" she mutters, shoving the gun deeper before pulling the trigger. "IT'S ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"

With a bullet lodged right into her chest, Max can do nothing but hang in mid-air as she's shoved off the edge of the cliff. Desperate for answers and for another chance to live, she feels time screech on like a rusty wheel as it slows, but still keeps on going. Realizing that there's no way of her getting back up to the cliff, Max at least manages to rotate her body so that she can see what's going on around her.

Down and down she goes as she can feel nothing but the cool, wet air surrounding her; hearing the faint chants of those fearless enough to try and face this tornado with open arms.

Just before she touches down to the sharp rocks below, Max can't help but notice that it's Kate Marsh of all people standing against the current; looking incredibly saddened as she closes her eyes and lets the harsh winds engulf her in darkness.

_Hang in there, Kate, _she wants to screech out to her, but finds that the bullet wound has taken out any chance of her being able to speak. _Just remember… you're not alone…_

* * *

…_Bzzt! Bzzt! …Bzzt! Bzzt!_

"…urgh… huh? What?"

Groggily opening her eyes as the faint, distant sound of crickets echoes in from the open window, Max sighs and rubs her face with her palms. It's not even daylight out there, yet she's been rudely interrupted from her slumber by some annoying device buzzing on her nightstand.

On the other hand, this person texting her may have also just unintentionally saved her from yet another horrible, catastrophic vision. Was that really Clementine up on that cliff?

_It all felt so surreal… But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't tear myself away, _she internalizes, blinking in the inky darkness for a moment as she turns onto her side. _That was WAY worse than the other times – it's like the visions are somehow getting even stronger as the week goes on. That tornado's inching closer with each passing day…_

_Bzzt! Bzzt!_

Knowing that whoever's messaging her wouldn't do so if they didn't think it was urgent, Max reaches out and fumbles for her phone until her fingertips firmly graze over it. Squinting and protectively shielding her eyes as the terrible light blinds her, she waits for a few seconds before glancing at the sender's ID.

It reads "Unknown", but it only takes Max a split second to realize just who it is that's texting at this hour, and seeing the contact startles her a little bit for some obvious reasons.

_Hey, it's Clementine. Chloe gave me your number yesterday… so no, I'm not stalking u. Call me back? It's important._

_This can't be a coincidence, _Max believes as she reads over the message a couple of times more. Sitting all alone in her dorm room, Max has nobody around to help her internalize what this might be about. The two of them still aren't on the greatest of terms after yesterday, and she thought that for sure Chloe would absolutely _loathe _the fact that she had to drive her home, but did something happen along the way? Did the two of them come to terms with each other… and maybe even start on the road to a friendship?

…no, there's no way that Chloe would cozy on up to somebody that quickly. Even when Max, her best childhood friend, returned after five years, Chloe had still given her a bit of a cold shoulder when she had arrived.

Yet, the fact remains – Chloe wouldn't have given out her number for no reason. There must be more to it than that.

"Please don't come over here and shoot me…" Max mumbles sarcastically, sighing before dialing her number and bringing it up to her ear.

Hoping for the best, Max gulps as she hears a soft yet rattled voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey… it's Max," she introduces, sitting up a bit in her bed to get more comfortable. "You wanted me?"

"_Uhh… yeah," _she admits with a yawn, quickly stifling it down almost as soon as she let it go. _"It's just… well, it's about Kate, actually. She called me earlier tonight and sounded really upset," _Clem tells her, not really coming as much of a surprise to Max at this point. The girl's been showing signs of depression and loneliness for a while now. _"I tried to help her as much as I could, but I don't live at the school like you guys do, so I couldn't do as much as I'd like. I'm worried. Would you be able to… you know…"_

"Sneak over and check up on her? Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem," Max agrees almost immediately, not so secretly having been concerned over Kate's wellbeing herself. Nearly every time that she's been trying to do the right thing with her, however, it seems to have blown up in her face. Between accidentally missing her call back when she was hanging out with Chloe at the diner, to when she decided to take a picture of the confrontation with David instead of jumping in to intervene, Max can't help but feel as though she's been a pretty shitty friend as of late.

Hopefully Ms. Marsh doesn't feel the same way.

"_Cool, I think she might still be up, but I'm not entirely sure," _Clementine mentions, her voice getting slightly muffled through static for a brief moment. _"And… you know… thanks…" _she mutters awkwardly, with the both of them knowing that they've still got some rough patches to smooth out amongst themselves.

Hearing the call end before Max can even reply, she closes her mouth before stretching her arms to the sky.

_I'd better go do this now while everyone else is still asleep, _she realizes, swinging her legs to the side of her bed and standing up. Not feeling the need to put on her regular street clothes for a simple walk across the hallway, she wipes the sleep out of her eyes before briefly glancing over at Lisa; nodding her head and feeling proud that her untapped botany skills had actually come in handy.

_At least I've done SOMETHING right this week…_

Poking her head out and checking to see if Blackwell decided to hire any nighttime hall monitors, Max shakes off her paranoia before tiptoeing outside and quietly closing her door; leaving just a partial crack open so that she won't need to retrieve her key.

The girl's dormitory is pretty dark and quiet at this time of night, considering that it's nearly three-thirty in the evening. Max can see a faint light coming from underneath Victoria's doorway, but at least it doesn't sound as though she's giving any verbal hell to somebody right now. More likely, Max predicts, it's just her sending nasty emails to all those who Victoria deems "uncool", or possibly messing with and getting in between Zachary and Juliet once again. The only time that Max has ever once seen the girl acting relatively normal and humane in any way was when she herself was at her most vulnerable on the staircase – covered in white paint as the time-shifting heroine had decided to be the bigger person.

Victoria may not have said it, but Max could tell that for a brief stint in their relationship, she had actually sort of gotten through the fashion diva. Sure, the moment was gone almost as soon as it began, but that was one accomplishment to mark off of the bucket list.

Scowling as the light from her phone reveals a nasty message on Kate's wall, reading "Will bang the Lord for attention", Max quickly retracts any positive notions about the bitch next door that she may have had. If the fucking pristine handwriting didn't give it away already, then the cruel, harsh message behind it definitely proves to her that Victoria was once again behind another wicked scheme at the expense of Kate Marsh. Quickly wiping away the evidence and giving the finger to Victoria's door, Max instead draws a smiley face, a heart and a small butterfly on the board to brighten the scene.

_Damn… I should stick to photography, _she criticizes, sticking an ear to Kate's door for a moment to hear nothing but the occasional whimper and the sound of tissue paper being ripped from the box.

Three times she knocks on the door, whispering for Kate to open up, but as soon as she does this, the crying stops altogether and silence once again fills the air; almost as if the girl was simply a ghost and a figment of her imagination.

"…Kate? You in there?" Max asks in a hushed voice. "Just wanted to come by and see how you were doing… Is… is everything cool in there?"

Always having found it difficult to comfort people in times of crisis, and possibly even worse at giving out advice to people whom she hasn't been that close to, Max mentally kicks herself at how forced this is all sounding; as if she had rehearsed this entire sentence before she had walked over. Isn't a good friend supposed to be someone that can think on the fly and make the person feel better without any hesitation? Or is she simply overthinking all of this?

"C'mon, Kate… Open up. Please?" she whispers, wanting a chance to make a real difference in someone's life instead of just making things worse. This could be a real opportunity for the two of them to bond instead of polarize them even further, but it seems that fate isn't going to be too kind to Max tonight.

No sound other than the ruffling of bed covers is heard as Max sighs in defeat.

"Ok," she resides, leaning her forehead against the door as she shuts her eyes, "I know you can hear me in there, Kate. Just…" she trails off, finding the words she had thought of in her vision to come crawling back. "…hang in there, Kate. Just remember that I'm here for you if you want to talk, ok? You're not alone… and you don't have to go through this shit on your own…"

"…_thanks, Max…"_

When the girl doesn't come to unlock her door or invite her inside, Max takes that as her cue to leave. Whatever's going through her head right now must be too much to handle right now, but Max can't help but feel a little envious that she had sought comfort with Clementine, a new girl, instead of her. What was so special about the ball cap-wearing teen that made her more valuable and a better listener than Max was?

…_God, I'm so fucking selfish… _Max scolds herself, wandering back to her room and quickly sitting on the edge of the bed in shame. _Kate's breaking like glass, and here I am feeling jealous about the whole thing? I can't even believe myself right now…_

With her thoughts betraying her, and there being no way in hell tonight that she'll be able to kick that wicked, little voice in her head saying that Clementine could be a potential threat for her at Blackwell, Max lays down on her bed and tries to think of the few bright sides that remain. At least Kate hasn't done anything rash, and that Max had actually managed to convince Clementine that she and Chloe weren't going to kill her. Plus, with the Everyday Hero Photo Contest entry date having passed already, at least Mr. Jefferson isn't grilling her as much over handing in an entry of her own.

But these pickings are slim, and Max can't help but experience some bitter emotions as she contemplates the rest of what's been happening in Arcadia Bay. The whole town is going to shit, as Chloe had once said, and even her time powers can't seem to bring the little spot in Oregon back from the brink of extinction.

_No wonder Kate's so depressed, _Max thinks before trying to count sheep in order to fall back to sleep.

However, as in nights past, little slumber will come to her.

* * *

The music from her Hi-Fi radio player sings a lovely tune as Max once again opens her eyes. No scary visions this time around, thankfully, but the girl did have a pretty strange dream about her and Chloe riding on the back of a magical unicorn; sailing over into a giant bowl of butterscotch ripple ice cream, with the blue-haired punker smoking up the entire ride. Weird stuff, for sure.

_Thank God I'm not a Brony_, Max chuckles, but her laughter stops upon noticing what time it is on her alarm clock: two forty-four in the afternoon, meaning she's literally been sleeping for the better part of the day.

"Shit, shit, shit!" she repeats, quickly hopping out of bed and wondering how she could've possibly slept in so late. Max hadn't even realized that she had fallen asleep last night _at all_, but then again, nobody really does. It just kind of happens.

Not bothering to have a shower, seeing's how her photography class isn't going to wait around for her to freshen up, Max resorts to putting on some deodorant and spraying once out of her perfume bottle – typically saved for emergencies only.

With her favourite shirt and jeans now on, the teen nearly forgets to sling her bag over her shoulder as she darts out of the room and starts jogging down the hallways… but not before stopping at Kate's room.

The message on the white board this morning is oddly disturbing, and totally out of character even for one of the ruthless bitches here at Blackwell Academy – a crude, creepy drawing of a skull and crossbones. Underneath this is a small message in very tiny print, yet can be clearly seen in the capital letters.

_I'M SORRY_

Terrified of what this could mean, and worried that this time it's not just somebody playing a really mean prank, Max knocks on Kate's door, only for it to slowly creak open as soon as her fist connects with it.

"Kate?" she calls out, stepping inside the dimly-lit room and feeling slightly disturbed. The window has been left carelessly ajar as the wind has the curtains blowing outwards, her trash bin has been tossed across the room as if the place had been ransacked, and various papers have been either crumpled up into balls or have been blown onto the floor in various locations.

Stepping inside, however, reveals that one paper still remains firmly lodged inside of Kate's old binder. The bright red pen markings on it are enough to make Max's skin crawl, but the words are what truly send a terrible uneasiness into the pit of her stomach.

_I can't deal with this anymore, _Max reads silently, going over every sentence in detail. _The jokes, the bullying, the threats… it's all become so much more than I can take. I don't have anyone to turn to for help – some have tried, but none of them can truly understand how I feel. My family has all but disowned me… all over some video of me that I don't remember anyone taking._

_You people want to see me on the internet? Fine… I'll give you the fucking video of the year, all for your sick enjoyment. There's a reason that they call this place __BLACK HELL__, you know._

_Nobody gives a shit, so why should I? What am I gonna do, wake up tomorrow and the day after, only to have this hazing happen all over again? No, fuck that. I'm done. I don't want to go through with the same bullshit every single day. I'm not going to suffer through this life anymore._

"Oh my god…" Max gasps quietly, unable to believe that Kate would start swearing like this, let alone the true reasoning behind this letter. She's never read a suicide letter before, and now she sort of wishes that she actually could go back in time and somehow block this from her memory.

Skimming down to the other side of the paper, Max chokes up as she sees a few dried tear marks laced on and mixed with some of the penmanship. Clearly Kate is on her last straw.

_Victoria, Nathan and all the rest of you Vortex Club pricks… I hope you feel proud of yourselves. You've finally gotten what you were after this whole time – getting rid of me. Congratulations guys, you've done it. Hooray, right? Have a toke on me, or better yet, choke on whatever drug that Nathan Prescott had drugged me with that night. I know that you were behind it, and if there's any justice left in the world, then you'll get your karma soon enough. All of you will._

_But for everyone else… I'm sorry, but I can't go on. Not like this. I know some of you tried to help, and you know who you are. But I don't wanna be a bother on all of you – so this is goodbye._

_Forever in love and prayer,_

_Kate M._

"No… this… this can't be happening!" Max cries out, dropping the note as if it was on fire and scooting out of her room; neglecting her time power for a little while in her mad rush to save Kate from an untimely death.

Even with all the time in the world at her fingertips, Max Caulfield might be too late to save her.

* * *

Catching her breath as she enters through the front double doors of Blackwell Academy, Max darts her head left and right in a desperate search for Kate. The last place she would expect Kate to be located after writing a note like that would be in Mr. Jefferson's photography class, but it wouldn't hurt to have a little bit of wishful thinking, right? Much better than finding out she's already on her way to a morgue or something…

Not even taking five steps inside the building, Max spots the security officer, one David Madsen, sprinting towards her at lightning speed.

"Mr. Madsen, wait! Have you seen – "

Without even glancing in her direction, David bolts past her and heads back out the way she came, banking a right as he disappears from her sight. Hmph! Just because she had gotten "caught" in Chloe's room with a roll of weed doesn't mean that he has to act like a total dick and completely give her the cold shoulder!

_Why is he in such a hurry? It's not as if he's ever cared about Kate's wellbeing… He just likes to stalk her everywhere, apparently… _she says in her head, not going to deny that that fact kind of creeps her out. Three times this week, she's spotted David hiding in the bushes or behind trees either taking pictures of her, or just plain observing the poor girl.

Snapped out of her thoughts, Max is startled as, like a herd of elephants, the students of Blackwell start pouring out of their classrooms and head outside. Facial expressions are mixed – some are sneering, others are mortified, and some look as though they're just itching to see some action going on outside. Whatever's happening definitely isn't normal, and if Max's hunch is correct…

Wasting no more time, Max follows the crowd as she is lead out to the open courtyard; now filled with people as they stand there looking at whatever's going on.

"Bitch finally lost it," Logan snickers as Max brushes past him and the bros from the football team, and it doesn't take long for her to figure out what that backhanded comment meant.

Up on the roof stands Kate Marsh, dangerously looming over the edge of the roof as she slowly bends her knees.

"KATE!" Max screams out, horrified as she actually does jump off and hovers mere inches above the ground. Max instantly rewinds time as she attempts to move forward, but again, Kate jumps as the crowd screams out with the same reaction as before. "No!"

_She can't die… She can't! I won't let this happen!_

Feeling bolts of energy crawling up through her body, Max concentrates as hard as she can with yet another time control, only in this case managing to stop time altogether. The faces of her fellow classmates and teachers appear all distorted and fuzzy, yet every single one of them is frozen on the spot while Max holds her position. Finding it terribly difficult to move without being drained, Max scrunches up her face before trying to take a first step.

However, there is somebody else around who's still very much unaffected by her time powers.

"Go!" Max hollers as Clementine stands there in bewilderment; shaking away her surprise as she quickly darts past Mr. Madsen's unmoving form and into the building. Until Clementine appears again and wraps her arms around Kate to keep her from falling off, Max keeps on holding time in place.

Once the girl gives her the thumbs up, Max releases her hold on the world and collapses to her side, breathing heavily as the world around her starts to spin. Pressing two fingers up against her nose, Max can practically feel the vessels popping as her fingers return with traces of blood – the fourth time this week, if she's been counting correctly.

_If I can't do it… then please, Clementine… be an everyday hero…_

* * *

"GAH! LET ME GO! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Keeping you from making a mistake!" Clementine retorts, not meaning to sound angry but having no other choice as Kate thrashes about like a wild animal. Managing to smack the girl right in the nose, Kate breaks free from her grasp as she inches closer and closer back to her spot on the edge of the roof. "Kate, please! Listen to me, alright?" Clementine begs, her eyes looking desperate as she holds out her hand carefully. "You don't have to do this! I know that we haven't known each other for very long, but… I don't want to see you do this to yourself! I'm your friend!"

Shaking her head in flat-out denial, Kate tries to keep her from stepping any closer and warns that she'll jump if Clementine takes one more step. Getting the message, she slowly but reluctantly backs off a little bit; giving the girl some space. In this life or death situation, the young girl's mindset is vulnerable and completely ungrounded.

One wrong word, and Kate might have the capacity within her to jump.

"Nobody understands what I'm going through! Not even you!" she cries out, and while the comment does leave a mark, Clem can't find herself to be worried about it. It's clear that Kate's going through a tremendous amount of pain, and that can make a person say some things they don't mean. "Everyone can laugh at that stupid video all they want, but I'm not going to force myself through that anymore… What's there to live for if all I'm going to get is ridicule?"

"Kate… there's more to life than just high school, and you've got friends down there who want to help you out! Look for them, you'll see – Max, Warren, Alyssa, Dana, Juliet, Brooke, Trevor, Justin… we all care about you too much! Please…"

"You've never gotten called a Bible Humper, Clementine! People don't go up to you in the hallways and call you a slut! But… but they do to me…"

Clinging to the hope that she can still make something out of her life and get past this, Clementine takes a softer approach and tries to use the only weapon at her disposal – her old life, back in Georgia.

"Bullies are nothing new… Remember when we talked in the hall the other day? About how we can get through them together?" she recalls as Kate slowly nods her head. "Well, I wasn't lying! I went through hell back home in Atlanta – people used to pick on me for the dumbest things you could think of. My hair, my clothes, my eyes… everything they could think of. But I went to some of my teachers, neighbours and… and my parents…" she cuts herself off, closing her eyes as she stops to ease her troubled mind. "…but I was able to get the support that I needed, and now I don't even let that stuff bother me anymore! It's… it's just a phase, nothing more, and we can get through this school together! I can't promise that things will automatically get easier, but… but there are people in your life who care about you, I know that much!"

"Dad… my sisters…" Kate mutters while looking down steadily. Clementine hears every word as she nods her head in encouragement.

"Exactly! And believe it or not, you've got friends here – all of them want you to be okay," Clementine reasons, offering out her hand in a last ditch effort. "Kate… can you please come back with me? I can't leave this place without you… I don't _want _to leave this roof without you…"

Internally debating with herself, Kate sucks in a big intake of breath before glancing over at Clementine's outstretched hand. Her words have been powerful and deep, and although it seems a bit out of place for her to be the one up here right now, at least Kate can find some solace in knowing that there happens to be somebody looking out for her after all.

Hesitantly, Kate sniffles before nodding her head and gently stepping off of the roof. A round of applause comes from down below as they descend the staircase, where a team of paramedics awaits them to take the girl to the hospital; more than likely about to put her on suicide watch for the next few days.

"I'm sorry… sorry…" she apologizes upon seeing Max, but the drained girl simply shakes her head and smiles in relief, glad to see that her friend is alright.

"What are you talking about?" she giggles, choking on her own words as she clutches onto Kate's hand. "You saved me from talking in class!"

Giving one last appreciative look at the two girls, Kate nods before being carefully lead to an awaiting ambulance; glancing behind her again as the doors shut and the vehicle drives away.

After the exhausting events, all that Clementine can do is nod at Max with extreme gratitude. Returning the gesture, Max smiles lightly before getting whisked away by Warren, who's rambling on already about the crazy events as Clementine tries to brush past the enormous amount of praise being sent her way. Too much attention for one day.

However, despite the utter chaos that occurred, Clem and Max can certainly agree on one thing – both of them have certainly found a much improved sense of respect for one another.

That's not something that either of them are willing to take lightly.


	9. Busting into Blackwell

Clementine's always hated hospitals. The way they smell, how depressing they look with all of the patients hooked up to various machines, the attitude of some of the more disgruntled nurses, and just the overall atmosphere of the place – it's all a little claustrophobic. So much happens in here at such a rapid pace that the girl often finds it difficult to keep up. It's why she never used to enjoy watching those hospital dramas on television with her parents as a child, since in her mind, it would just cause her to experience a very, VERY early stroke.

So needless to say, as she walks through the sliding double doors of Arcadia Bay Health Centre, Clementine's feeling a little anxious. The receptionist looks like she's had ten years' worth of crappy days at her post, and it shows as she rudely tells her to take an elevator up to the seventh floor so that she can stop bothering her.

Thanking the lady anyways out of force of habit, Clementine scurries away as she wanders down the cream-coloured hallway; passing by a few kids taking their father outside in a wheelchair as another elderly woman leans on her IV pole and breathes heavily out through her nose. No matter how she might feel about being in a place like this, Clem can't help but admit that no matter how crappy her life might've seemed after the funeral a while back, there's always going to be somebody less fortunate than she is. Some of these people may have to live here for weeks on end.

Flashing a quick smile to a doctor who's also waiting for the same elevator that she is, Clementine waits for the light to turn green on the dash up above. Stepping to the side so that the four passengers can get out, she moves to the rear corner of the elevator and thanking the doctor for pushing the seventh floor button for her.

"Just visiting someone today?" she asks politely as Clementine nods her head and adjusts the strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

"Yeah…" Clem somberly replies, "I've got a friend who's in a lot of pain right now. Figured that she could use someone to talk to."

Most likely figuring that this could be a sensitive topic for the teen, the doctor simply nods and faces forward once again; hopping out to her designated floor as Clementine is left to her own thoughts.

Kate Marsh – how could things have been turned on their head so quickly? One moment, Clem was simply sitting in class and trying to endure another one of Ms. Grant's boring science lessons (although she still highly respected the teacher for showing her students to stand up for what's right), and then the next she's basically thrown out like a stampede outside. With everyone watching like a hawk as Kate had taken her first steps off of that rooftop, her breath had hitched and her throat was bone dry.

Oh yes, Clem can remember clearly that Kate _had _in fact jumped from the roof the first time. Were it not for a certain someone's quick thinking and action, then she likely wouldn't even be in this hospital visiting her friend at all.

Startled a little bit as the elevator makes an abrupt and shaky stop at the seventh floor, Clementine makes a hasty exit as she starts to look around for the door signs. Although under normal circumstances it would just have the door number on the front with nothing else, it's a lot easier to make out Kate's room by the obscene number of flower bouquets and _Get Well Soon _cards from many of the same people who were teasing her in the first place. Fucking hypocrites, the lot of them.

The irony hasn't been lost on her, but Clementine at least takes solace in the fact that the majority of the school has started to show a little compassion for a change. It's been a few days since the incident, and already some of the effects have caused a ripple in the status quo of Blackwell Academy. Vortex Club posters have been either torn off the walls of heavily tampered with, quoting the people within the prestigious group as being evil, heartless bastards and nothing more than a ragtag bunch of fuck-ups.

_Looks like Kate's started a revolution, _Clementine thinks to herself, knocking on the door and poking her head inside. Smiling sadly in an effort to cheer her up, she spots Kate laying in her bed and still dressed in an ugly, blue hospital gown. Her hair's a fluffy mess, and her cheeks are stained with old tears as the dark circles under her eyes tell Clem that she hasn't been sleeping well at all lately, but through all of this it genuinely seems like Kate is happy to see her.

"Hey," Clementine greets her, approaching the bed as she pulls up a chair from the side of the room. "How are you feeling?"

Weakly shrugging her shoulders, Kate sits up a little bit in her hospital bed, being careful not to disrupt or tamper with any of the machines that she's wired up to while doing so. The girl's been on twenty-four hour suicide watch for the past few days, but from what Clementine's been hearing, the medical professionals' original worries about a possible relapse of her self-harming behaviour have largely subsided. In other words, in about a week's time, Kate's likely going to be cleared for leaving.

Whether leaving means heading back home to her family or returning to Blackwell for the rest of the school term remains up for debate.

"As good as can be expected, I guess," she admits truthfully, sighing a little as Clementine listens intently. Resting her hands on her lap, a small, weathered smile appears on Kate's lips as she recalls what transpired. "Alyssa, Stella and Brooke all came in earlier this morning… I guess I gave them quite the scare."

Not wanting to pin the blame on Kate as being the reason that the whole school has become rather morbid recently, Clementine says nothing and instead snaps her fingers in remembrance. Curious, Kate watches with intrigue as Clem brings her bag up to her lap, unzips it and starts digging around through the contents.

"Almost totally forgot about this thing," Clementine chuckles dryly, feeling a little worried until she finally grabs onto the prized possession – a dark red stuffed bear, also known more commonly as a Beanie Baby. "I saw it on the way home yesterday – didn't even think they were selling these things, and I nearly had to break someone's arm just to get it. I guess now I can see why the company stopped making these things…"

Giggling at that, Kate smiles warmly as she holds the toy in her hands and plays with the arm for a second. Clem's heart swells with warmth as Kate thanks her; grateful that she'd take time out of her schedule to check up on her and do something as thoughtful as to buy her a gift. Clearly the flowers were getting a little too spacious in this room.

Clementine doesn't want to say anything, seeing's how the girl's already undergoing enough stress in her life as it is, but practically the entire town has heard the now infamous story of Kate's suicide attempt. It was in the newspapers, on television, as well as lodged in nearly everyone's minds. And as horrible as it may be for her to admit, she's actually kind of glad that this new topic is all that anybody can talk about – it's distracted them from the disappearance of Frank Bowers. She can recall actually seeing Max trying to be sneaky and taking down Frank's posters late one day after school, but even then she looked as though she was gonna be sick to her stomach.

The only logical explanation that Max can think of for everyone's sudden interest in Kate is… well, to put it bluntly, not a whole lot happens in Arcadia Bay. The town is small – close to about 9000 people at the most – and so, when something as devastating as a suicide attempt gets whispered on the wind, it catches on with the residents pretty quickly. And suddenly, Kate Marsh, a girl who most wouldn't have even heard about prior to this event, has now become one of the most recognizable people in this little dot on the Oregon map.

"We managed to convince Mr. Jefferson that you wouldn't need any more homework," Clem winks as she smirks in a joking manner. "Trust me, there's not enough detention in the world that could convince me to try and stay for an hour of nineteenth century photography… Sometimes I think the teachers at Blackwell are paid to try and turn all of our brains to mush!"

"…certainly still beats the living crap out of being cooped up in a place like this…"

Falling awfully quiet at that, as well as realizing that Kate is still in a lot of pain and that there's a lot of work to be done, Clementine takes a chance and lightly grabs onto her hand in support. She's certainly no counsellor, and no manner of encouraging words is going to fully bring her back from the brink, but whatever sliver of help she may be able to provide, Clem knows in her heart that it's worth it. A million and a half times over, in fact. She may just be one person who's barely even scratched the surface into Kate's life, but sometimes one person may be enough to get the ball rolling.

"You can get through this, Kate. I know you can," she encourages softly, lightly squeezing onto her hand in support. "Once this is all over, and you can come back to school, I'm gonna take you out for ice cream down by the bay – just you and me. C'mon, what do you say? That usually helps me cheer up whenever I'm feeling blue."

Studying her bedspread for a few moments, not saying anything, Kate finally opens her mouth to speak once again; her brow twisted with a mix of confusion and sadness. "You were the only one who tried to help me up there…" she mentions, causing Clementine's gut to twist in a tight knot. Oh, if she only knew… "You didn't give up on me when everyone else did… even when I gave up on myself… Why?"

Something inside of her wants to belt out the truth for all to hear, from the diner, to the school, to Lee, to the hospital and everywhere in between. This secret has been eating away at her insides, and the knowledge that she herself is also apparently connected to some sort of crazy time power still boggles her mind even now.

But if she were to say anything about this, not only would it likely put Max in danger in more ways than one, but even if she were to say something, would Kate even believe her? Would she laugh in her face? Would she be locked up in a mental institution with no hope of escape, all because nobody would actually buy her story?

Those threats alone are enough to keep her mouth shut, but Clementine has come up with a different way of giving credit where credit is due.

"Kate… I may have been up there with you, but… I didn't do it alone," she reveals, puzzling the depressed teen as she tries to figure out what she means. "If it hadn't been for Max, then I wouldn't have been able to get up there in the first place. She got me through those doors even before Officer Dickhead could even get in. So really, it's Max who's the real hero here… not me."

Stunned at this revelation, Kate doesn't really know what to say about that. Although the truth may have been altered for secretive purposes, the message still holds true – she'd be dead if it wasn't for Max. She's an unsung hero in all of this, and unfortunately, aside from her and Chloe, nobody will ever really know just how special and helpful the girl truly is. She's definitely not getting treated any better at Blackwell thanks to her super powers, and it's not as if Max is going to win any Nobel prizes for being able to rewind time.

But maybe, just maybe, that's the way that she'd prefer things to be.

* * *

"BOO-YAH!" Chloe jump-scares her friend, stepping out of the shadows and latching onto her shoulders as she tries to lighten the mood. "Get it? _Boo-yah? _Like a… scary punk ghost?"

"More like a scary, insensitive…" Max cuts herself off, forgetting her criticism of Chloe's antics as she shakes her head and places her hands on her hips; pacing back and forth slowly as she motions for the other girl to come out of hiding. "Clem, come on out here. We may as well get started with all of this…"

Apparently not having realized that the ball cap-sporting girl was coming along at all, Chloe turns around to see that, sure enough, Clementine's scoping out the scene from the bushes. With a sheepish grin, she steps out of her hiding spot and brushes the dead leaves and branches off of her dark blue hoodie – the same one that she's been wearing in her visions, Max notes.

_Can this really all be a coincidence? Maybe this is some sort of sign that I'm not getting through my head, _Max supposes, completely relinquishing any annoyed vibes about Chloe acting like a goofball so soon after Kate's near-death experience.

"Well hello there, Ms. Heisenberg," Chloe jokes as she elbows the girl lightly in the ribs. Whatever the hell happened between the two of them Max doesn't rightly know. But at least they seem to be getting along a little bit now. "Didn't expect to see a goodie-goodie like you out on a stakeout mission. Figured you'd be asleep by now."

Pulling Chloe's dark beanie down over her eyes, Clementine stands in the circle as she waits for further instruction. Max is actually pretty impressed – nobody has ever touched her hat and lived, as far as she's concerned.

Shaking these silly thoughts to the side, as Max remembers the reason that she had invited Clem out with them tonight anyways, she turns on her heel and starts heading towards the main building. "I almost got busted by the principal… _again_," she says spitefully, still bitter after getting suspended for trying to blame Nate on the whole suicide attempt without enough solid evidence to back up her claim. "The guy was plastered out of his mind, and yet nobody's gonna lay a finger on him to do anything about it. Meanwhile, I'm getting into trouble for actually telling the truth about Nathan! This is so unfair!"

"_Tch_, I don't think that anyone would _want _to lay a finger on that slimy ass, Max. So I think you're in the clear on that one."

"Ugh… that's not what I meant, Chloe…"

"Sure it's not," Chloe winks, clearly being the veteran of sneaking out among the three girls as she strolls along without a care in the world. The rush and adrenaline of a nighttime heist like this is getting her pretty wired, but actually doing it with people that she likes instead of assholes like Frank is making the deal even sweeter. "Come on, slowpokes – I know a way inside, and then we can _really _start to have some fun!"

Taking a quick glance over at Max, Clementine speaks her mind as she tries to keep Chloe from hearing. "Suddenly, I'm sort of wishing that you hadn't brought me out here tonight."

"Wait, hold up…" Chloe stops them, halting their progress as she widens her eyes at what she's seeing. "Shit! Quickly, behind that billboard thingy! Hide!"

Doing as she's said, Clem and Max quickly duck for cover behind the sign followed by Chloe as the three of them glance at the front doors of the school. Out of everyone who could've shown up, it's actually Victoria and Mr. Jefferson, people who Max had definitely not been expecting to see.

What could they be doing at this time of night, anyways?

_Probably trying to suck-up for grades… and some action, apparently, _Max gathers, feeling disgusted yet amused at how hard Victoria's been trying with him. _Doesn't she realize that she's practically half his age? Ugh… is there any low that she won't stoop to?_

"I can give you a one-word sneak peek of Max's entry: selfie," Victoria smugly remarks, making Max's skin crawl at how belittling and mean she can actually be, even after such traumatic events. Thankfully, Mr. Jefferson (or Mark, as Victoria's been referring him to) doesn't seem too impressed with what she's trying to do.

"Jealous much?" Chloe whispers, feeling incredibly happy that she had gotten expelled from such a pretentious place like this.

Listening in on their conversation for a little while longer, the trio wait until the teacher has left and Victoria, annoyed beyond belief that her extortion attempt has just backfired, has stormed back towards the dormitories in a huff. Shaking her head in wonder at how the girl can possibly act like this every single day, Max stands to full height as she amusedly high-fives a smirking Chloe.

"Rad – stage one completed," she boasts, heading up the front steps with Clementine trailing behind the two of them. Flashing a set of keys in front of them before turning back to face the front door, Chloe twirls the keychain around and gets set to work. "All courtesy of Asshole-McGee," she mutters, unlocking the front door and hurrying Max and Clementine inside. "Alright, here we go…"

Carefully shutting the door behind her and snapping herself out of staring at the beautiful fireflies that have come out to dazzle the nighttime sky, Clementine regains her focus as she uses the dim light of her cellphone to help illuminate the hallway. "My battery's almost dead, so we've gotta make this quick. What are we looking for?" she questions, watching as Chloe has already started to dash towards the principal's office and gotten to the secretary's desk.

After switching on a lamp and adjusting the brightness accordingly, Max watches Chloe get set to work before answering. "We need to get more information on what happened with Kate… and Rachel Amber," she adds, hoping that Chloe hasn't really been paying much attention to their conversation as she frowns sadly. "There's more going on with this place than the teachers and principal are letting on… and we're convinced that the two events might somehow be related. Why else would they be so tight-lipped about all of this?"

Seemingly unconvinced at the connection between Rachel and Kate, Clementine sits on the secretary desk as she puts her hood overtop of her head; suddenly feeling a little chilly from the air conditioning unit right beside the doorway. "Well… that still doesn't really explain how the two things go together. I mean, who do you think could've possibly have been responsible for…"

Mulling it over a little bit as Max allows her to figure it out for herself, Clementine finally puts the pieces together. It all seems a little like some sort of crazy conspiracy theory more than anything else, but with all the buzz that's been surrounding Nathan Prescott and his less than squeaky clean track record as of late, Clementine admits that it might not be so farfetched.

From what she's been told by various sources, Max has discovered that Nathan used to be pretty enamoured by Rachel Amber, possibly even wanting more than she was willing to give. He's never really been one to take no for an answer, most likely due to a mental illness as well as his parents spoiling him rotten, so the idea of him somehow being involved in Rachel's disappearance might actually have some truth to it. And with the truth involving Kate and that party being so much clearer to Max than any of the adults are willing to accept, she really wants to try and find out the answers for herself.

Chloe was more than happy to come along for the ride.

"Damn it… what kind of security guard doesn't have keys to the principal's office?!" Chloe barks quietly, coming up short-handed as she decides to try a different tactic. "Fuck it, I'm gonna try to pick the lock. Hopefully my thieving skills can actually come in handy this time…"

"What if I texted a friend of mine? Warren knows a thing or two about science – maybe he could help us cook something up for this thing," Max suggests, causing Chloe to shrug her shoulders as Clementine thoughtfully studies the unit plastered on the wall. An idea is starting to form in her head, but this may be doing more harm than good with all things considered.

"If you wanna get your brainiac friend on the line, go right ahead. I bet you that I can get us on faster, though!"

"Oh, it is _on_," Max smirks, feeling a little bad-ass as she brings the cell phone to her ear, but looking confused as Clementine places a hand on her shoulder and shakes her head. "What? Did you find the keys or something?"

Heading over to the air conditioner and tapping onto its metallic surface, Clementine tries to unscrew the bolts with her hands. However, as she had predicted she has no success. "I've seen one of these before – a family of dairy farmers had one in their meat locker when I went on a class trip to their barn one year," she mentions, recalling how creeped out she had been by the younger brother of the St. John family at the time. Danny, she thinks his name was? "They build these things in the wall and have a little passageway that we might be able to fit through. But I need something to remove the screws with. Lee had a multi-tool in our garage… should've brought stuff like that with me…"

Examining the machine for herself, Chloe nods her head as she rubs her thumb over the screws. "We can do this," she states, glancing over her shoulder as she addresses the two girls behind her. "Can you guys look for something we can use to bust our way through this bad boy? This place isn't exactly known for an auto shop class, but see if you can find some tools. Screwdrivers, plyers, that kind of thing."

"Aye, aye, Captain Chloe," Max salutes like a goofball as the spunky, blue-haired teen heads back to the doorknob in order to try her luck at picking her way in again. It'd be a lot less messy and make a lot less noise, but any way that they might be able to head on inside would be good enough for her.

She can't help but quickly do a few double-takes over her shoulder in paranoia after she's left alone in the office, with Clem and Max searching relentlessly through the dim classrooms.

* * *

Feeling her phone buzzing in her pocket after having set it to "Vibrate Mode", Max checks the message and smirks to herself. Warren's a pretty reliable friend to have around, even though she's not into him the same way that he is into her. It couldn't be more obvious with the dumb things he often says over messaging, but this actually isn't one of those times.

"This might work as a backup plan," she recommends, although Clementine is pretty darn convinced that this screwdriver plan is going to work wonders.

"No bombs required, I think," Clementine remarks, fist-pumping victoriously when she finally finds what they've been looking for. "Alright, jackpot!" she announces, holding up a mini screwdriver that she had found inside of Ms. Grant's desk. It never would've dawned on her that their science teacher would have one of these on hand, but the two girls have never been ones to look a gift horse in the mouth.

However, Clementine's a little worried that this gift might be for nothing when she spots Max taking out an old camera and snapping pics of the fish tank, and then proceeding to head over towards the old skeleton in the corner. Bemused as she is by seeing a cigarette planted in between the thing's teeth, she's still a little anxious about the two of them wasting time.

"What are you doing?" she asks, watching as Max takes a few steps back in order to achieve the perfect photo op. "In case you haven't noticed, we're kind of on a tight schedule here! What if somebody decides to walk into the building to check on things?"

Knowing that this might be considered cheating, Max places the camera back into her bag and flops the picture around to clear it up before sticking out her hand. Time reverses back about five minutes or so as they can hear the faint voice of Chloe giving them instructions again from the next room.

"I guess this thing isn't _all _bad," Max comments, even though her head spins almost every time that she uses this gift. Noticing that Clementine's still concerned about everything, and rightfully so, Max tries to focus on the task once again as the two of them exit the hallway. "So… you're sure that this started right when you first saw me? Had you noticed anything strange beforehand?"

"Nothing that even came close to this," Clem mentions as she rubs her face in exhaustion. She, like Kate Marsh, has had quite a few restless nights recently. "I hate not knowing why this is going on… It's driving me nuts! None of this is making any sense to me. I mean, can you even explain what's going on with your rewind power? Could anyone?"

As confused and frightened about these events as Clementine has been, in reality it doesn't even come close to what Max has been experiencing. Even though she's been using it in order to promote wellbeing and do some good deeds (and not so good ones) around town and in school, and has actually connected with a lot more people as a result, Max has actually never felt more alone in the universe. Less a gift and more of a burden for which she has to bear, Max can't help but feel estranged from those around her. Nobody can really understand this because none of them even realize that changes have been made to the timeline, and the girl has had some rather disturbing thoughts as a result of it.

"I've been looking up things relating to this for days on end, and none of them can really explain it," Max admits, suddenly feeling a lot less pumped than she had been before. "Quantum physics, wormholes, chaos theory… hell, I couldn't even find any answers after watching Back to the Future! You know it's bad when Marty McFly can't even help you out…"

Chuckling a little at that, Clementine places her hands in her pockets as she silently listens to the girl open up. For possibly the first time, the two of them are actually starting to let their guard down and are really trying to understand each other a bit better.

"…Chloe is supposed to be dead right now," she reveals out of the blue, causing Clementine to widen her eyes in surprise. "Yeah, that's what I was like, too. Nathan Prescott shot her in the girl's bathroom with a loaded gun right in the chest. That's when I first discovered my time control powers…"

Going over the scenario in her head for a few quiet seconds, Clementine tries to come up with her own conclusions as she stops them a little ways away from the principal's office. "So… does that mean – "

"Chloe might be the reason that I have this in the first place," Max reveals her internal suspicions, glancing at the hallway floor before they both decide to head on inside.

She's left Clementine with a lot to think about as she presents the screwdriver and gets set to work; looking over Chloe a couple of times as she tries to think about what's been going on.

What Max had intentionally left out is that Clem, too, may also have been a trigger for this apparent time-altering ability. Whether it's a super power, a God-given gift, or maybe a little bit of both, one thing is for certain – she's intent on finding out exactly what this all means, and how this could all possibly be connected with her tornado visions that she's been spontaneously having over the past week.

And if her hunch is correct, that random eclipse in the sky the other day along with that freakish snowfall might be just the beginning.

* * *

Coughing as the dust kicks up from the small air duct as she crawls inside, Clementine just barely manages to squeeze out the other end as she nearly does a face-plant on the carpet below her. Brushing the dirt off of her clothes and sputtering as she spits out some of the dust and grime, Clem shakes off her feeling of uncleanliness and peeks her vision out through the hole that she just came in through.

Waving to Chloe with a silly grin, she mutters a "told you so" as the punk rocker rolls her eyes. "Just open the damn thing," she remarks, stepping inside the office with Max as they both take a look around. "Whoa… swanky pad he's got in here. But that bronze bird is tacky as hell."

"Agreed," Max acknowledges, though as she glances back towards the doorway, concerned that the big, hulking air conditioner they left on the floor isn't going to look very conspicuous, Max holds out her hand and bends time to her will; watching as Chloe's body moves around while she and Clementine stay perfectly still.

Once the deed has been done, and Chloe is bent down trying to unlock the door from the other side of the door, Clementine chuckles before going to unlock it again.

"Cheater," she mumbles under her breath before letting Chloe back inside, with the girl wondering how in the hell she and Max had just gotten inside without her even noticing a thing. "Try not to think about it too hard, alright? Your brain might start to hurt."

Chloe opens her mouth to say something snarky in return, but decides that it's probably best not to question it and instead heads straight towards Principal Wells' desk; making her comment about the tacky bird again as she sits in the office chair. "Whoa…" she states, leaning back a little bit as she rests her feet up on the desk. "The guy might be a straight-up paranoid asshole, but he certainly has a nice set of furniture. Hey Max, do you think we could – "

"No," she instantly shakes her head as Max giggles and opens one of the filing cabinets. "We're not stealing the chair. Where would we even put something like that?"

"Well, we can just take it on the road with us when we bust out of Arcadia! We're gonna need _something _to sit on when we get to California, after all."

"Dream on, girlfriend," Max smirks, although her feelings of mirth are extinguished a little bit when she comes across one of the student folders inside of the filing cabinet. "Hey, Clem?" she calls out, purposefully keeping the folder hidden as the girl turns to face her. "Would you be able to go scope out the hallway for a little bit? Chloe and I have got this covered, and we need to make sure nobody's trying to follow us inside."

Chloe, knowing when somebody's trying to get rid of a person after years of experience, quirks an eyebrow as she watches Clementine shrug her shoulders in compliance. Flipping on the computer monitor and scrolling through some of the documents, she waits for Clementine to leave and be out of earshot before grilling her friend for answers.

"Wanna tell me why you're brushing her off?" she asks, not taking her eyes off the screen as she comes across some old info bulletins on Rachel. "I mean, no offense, but I'm pretty sure if you wanted an extra pair of hands on a stakeout, then you probably wouldn't just send them away as soon as we've hit the big score. What's going on in that noggin of yours, Max?"

After about thirty seconds or so of not hearing a reply or anything to indicate that she even heard her, Chloe forces herself to look away from the principal's notes and studies Max instead. The teen's hunched over the filing cabinet and going through it intensely, almost like some sort of detective of some kind. With curiosity getting the better of her, she stands up and hovers behind Max; looking over her shoulder and studying the words on the paper.

"The hell is this? Who's Carver?" Chloe inquires, not recognizing the name or knowing why a letter from this stranger would be sitting in a file folder for Clementine. However, the issues with Max right now seem to be more pressing at the moment, as she appears to be totally spaced out into her own little world. Waving a hand in front of Max's face and realizing that she's totally zonked out, Chloe tries to shake her shoulders and snap her out of it, but comes up completely shorthanded.

All the while, Max has touched and read over the letter about twenty times in her head; focusing all of her attention onto it as she's thrown back to a different time and place altogether. From the newspaper on the counter, it reads that she's travelled back to September 27th, 2013 – just a few weeks prior to Clementine's arrival at Blackwell Academy.

"…The Atlanta Times?" Max reads aloud in confusion. "But… I've never been here! Why the hell would I be in Georgia? Unless…"

Waking up in a strange house with Clementine quickly bounding down the stairs in shock, Max loosens her grip on the newspaper as she suddenly remembers the reason that Clementine had been at Blackwell in the first place.

This is the day that had changed her life forever – the day that both of her parents had been killed.

"…what did you do?" Clementine asks, her hands clenching into fists as her eyes glare at her icily underneath her blue and white ball cap.


	10. All too familiar

_No kidding, Clementine, _she thinks to herself, feeling as if she's treading in on a VERY touchy and VERY private part of Clementine's past. _What the hell __**am**__ I doing here?_

Max herself doesn't look any different; maintaining her usual style of a grey sweater, white shirt and jeans with her camera bag still strapped across her shoulders and hung down near her hip. And she certainly doesn't feel any different physically, aside from the unwavering butterflies in her stomach at the thought of being able to pull something like this off.

But she had to squint for a moment in order to recognize Clementine. Even without the hat alone, she'd practically look like a total stranger, especially considering that the blue and white, dirty old thing is practically glued to her head every single day. Seriously, Max has her own suspicions that the girl's almost stapled the thing shut and that it's latched its wool into her brain. But that's not the only striking detail that's different from before. No, Clem's hair is a messy bush of ebony locks, all entwined to lead Max to believe that she had just woken up around this time frame. The PJ's, bare feet and old, alternative rock t-shirt are also a pretty dead giveaway as well.

Her eyes, however, are what really sticks out to the teen, whose own eyes are always taking imaginary photographs herself. Clem's eyes look… well, to be blunt, they look _stunning_. Full of warmth and light, the golden-coloured irises don't show the miserable, depressed and lonely eighteen year old Clementine that Max has slowly come to know back in Arcadia Bay, but yet an entirely different girl entirely. It's almost as if Clem, back home in Atlanta, had some sort of purpose to keep going. Just by appearance alone she can tell that Clementine was a much happier camper back home.

The more that Max thinks about it, however, the less of a surprise it becomes. All of her friends – her _real _friends – would be back here, along with her entire world and pretty much everything she knows. The girl has got roots in this city, which would've probably made it excruciatingly difficult for her to have to pack up and leave.

The deal with her parents is another matter entirely.

Backing up slowly until she nearly knocks a dining room chair over, Max holds her hands out in an effort to quell the beast advancing towards her. Clem's more than likely freaking the fuck out right now, and probably wondering how Max could've possibly managed to travel back like this. It's weird though – Max has never once been to Clementine's childhood home, and has no recollection of ever even meeting the girl aside from a few weeks back. So how is it even possible that she could travel back to such a dark, grizzly time in the young girl's life? Creepy.

"Max," Clementine repeats her question lowly, standing just a few feet away from her, "why am I back here, and what the hell are you doing in my house? What did you do?"

"I… I don't really know…" she admits, perplexed and scared because, at least in this instance, she really feels as though she has _no _control over her time-altering ability. "One minute Chloe and I were snooping around in the principal's office, and the next I ended up here with you… That's all I know, Clem!"

"No, that… that doesn't just happen," Clementine remarks suspiciously, seeing right through that little, white lie as I continue to try and convince her otherwise. "You told me that the farthest you could go with your power is to go back for, what, ten minutes at the maximum? And now suddenly you can come into _my _past? No, it doesn't work like that…"

Caught up in her own web of deceit as Max comes to accept that she may have been right about that up until recently, she lowers her gaze to the floor as Max hears her walk away – probably to try and figure out just exactly why the two of them are back here and how to get home. Max wonders how long it'll be before she figures out that today is the night that her parents get shot out in the city…

Not wanting to butt in anymore right now, mainly because she doesn't want Clementine figuring out that she and Chloe were snooping around inside of her personal file, Max decides to take a look around the main floor of the girl's childhood home in order to keep her somewhat occupied. Odd how reminiscent it is of Max's _own _place back in Seattle… a nice, suburban dwelling with a television in the corner (although it seems that some kind of emergency broadcast is on for some reason or other), a few couches in the living room and some creaky stairs leading up to the second floor. On the wall hang two pictures of the family – a fairly old one where Clementine's hair looks more like a jungle than anything else, and what appears to be a fairly recent one with her and her parents standing in front of… the Seattle Space Needle…

_Get over yourself, _Max scolds, lightly knocking her hand against her head a few times to get all the paranoia out of her already troubled mind. _This is just a coincidence – no way does that have any connection. I mean, what would that have to do with… with…_

Standing up on her tippy toes to fully see the frame for herself, Max, in a startled frenzy, plucks the frame off of the wall and brings it over to the kitchen table so that she can see it under the pale light. Having to blow a thin layer of dust off as she can hear Clementine rooting around upstairs, Max's right eye starts to twitch. In the bottom left corner, further to the left-hand side, she sees it for herself. The picture's been photobombed by the unlikeliest of sources.

What the hell is Max doing in Clementine's family picture?

_Ring, ring! Ring, ring! Ring, ring!_

Not knowing whether Clem's going to get the phone, or whether or not she herself should be picking it up instead, Max waits out the message until she hears the voicemail come across her ears. It doesn't take her long to figure out just who it is that's calling their household this evening.

"Hey, kiddo! It's Mom, and we're just on our way to the movies now – I hope Gravity is as good as you said it was. I still think it's gonna be a snore-fest, but your father won't let us watch Despicable Me 2…"

"_It's gonna be awesome, hon!" _

"Anyways," she continues, sounding bored already yet amused at the same time, "I don't know if you're asleep yet or not, but we're gonna be home just after one or two tonight, okay? Kenny and Katjaa are in town so we figured we'd head over to the pub downtown and order a few drinks. Love you, and don't have any boys over!"

Hearing some chuckles on the other end of the line courtesy of Clem's father, Max sinks to the wall as she tries to let all of this sink into her brain. There would've been absolutely _nothing _Clem could've done to prevent this – not unless _her power _was to teleport to different locations and warn them before the devastation occurs.

"So that's how it happens…" Max whispers quietly as she watches Clementine traipse down the stairs; that icy look in her eyes turning into a scolding one as she slaps her thigh with indignity.

"What are you doing? We need to get out of here! Get off your feet and use your time-reversal thingy so that we can go home!" she tells the teen, who simply looks over at her as though she just lost her best friend. Puzzled, Clementine's gaze lightens up a little bit as she doesn't even notice the picture on the table. "Hey… you alright? What, uh… what's wrong?"

Simply pointing over to the message receiver on a little table by the other wall, Max wraps her arms around her knees as Clementine carefully walks towards it. Taking one look back at her friend, Clem pushes the _play _button as she hears her mother's sweet, angelic voice talking to her on the other end.

The more she listens, the more her knees start to tremble. Like a haze of frosty memories that she had chosen to keep buried for the last few months, Clementine starts to remember everything that happened; not even needing to look at the date to understand exactly what period of time they're in right now.

"…no…" she snivels, furiously wiping tears out of her eyes with the back of her shirt sleeve as the message ends. Recalling the time correctly, she reminds herself that Kenny will wake her up from her slumber very early on in the morning to give her the grave news, and that William Carver will have taken away the two most important people in her life. Two people who can never be replaced, even though Lee's been trying his absolute best.

But all of a sudden, understanding the present company that she's in right now, her eyes shoot open like lightning bolts as her face regains that lost feeling of hope. "Maybe things don't have to turn out like they did before," she says aloud, practically bounding over to Max and lifting the girl to her feet as she sniffles once more. "Max, please… I'm fucking begging you here…"

"Clem… I don't know if…"

"We have to try! Please – there has to be a reason that we've been brought back here, right? It's… it's destiny!" she exclaims jubilantly, practically prancing up and down with excitement at the mere possibility of seeing her folks again, alive and well. Placing her hands firmly yet softly on her shoulders, Clementine glances over at Max with desperation seeped into her voice; her eyes changing in seconds flat to those of a more hopeful nature. "Max, I would do _anything_… anything in the world…" she tells her honestly, listing off potential rewards just so that Max will comply. "Money, praise, jewelry… fuck it, I'll be your god damn personal servant for the rest of your life if you help me with this! Please, Max… I… I just want my family back…"

The time-shifting teenager can almost see Chloe saying those exact same words, and were she ever aware at the time of what was going to happen to her own father, the girl would likely be asking her the exact same request. And what a request it is… trying to change something of this nature, especially when Max doesn't even know the people that need to be saved? This is _bound _to have some potential unforeseen consequences that'll cause some sort of ripple effect. Wasn't Warren always going on about distortions in the space-time continuum or something of that nature?

However, telling the poor girl _no _might be as much of a dick move as they come. Even if something bad may come out of this which may lead to some nasty stuff down the road, a family bond may very well be at stake here, and, for better or worse, Max knows that she wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that she just let Clementine's parents die without even lifting a finger. This "Carver" person has to be taken down, no matter the consequences.

"…alright…" Max sighs, nodding her head more affirmatively as Clementine's grin grows wider. "Yeah, let's do it. If there's a chance for us to make a difference, then we've gotta take it."

Chuckling with mirth at the prospect of having her loved ones alive once again, Clementine can't contain her excitement and optimism as she wraps her arms around Max in a tight embrace. "Oh my god, Max… You have no idea how much this means to me… Thank you so much…"

Nodding her head as she rubs gentle circles on the girl's back, Max grows silent again as she sees the picture on the table – still unchanged as she sees herself pointing out some landmark with her own family in the background. It can't get much creepier than that… but what if it means something? What if she and Clementine are even more connected to one another than they even thought possible beforehand?

"Let's get to work," Clementine cuts these thoughts off as she pats Max on the arm and slings a leather jacket onto her body from the coat rack; completely forgetting to put on her shoes as she rushes out the door and into the night with Max following close behind.

* * *

Under the dim illumination of the street lamps the two of them run – deeper and deeper into the heart of Atlanta to try and get to Clementine's parents before time runs out. The crickets chirp in the grass and weeds on people's lawns, giving the city a much more vibrant feel even though most of the younger residents are likely asleep.

For the adults though? On a Saturday night, the place is absolutely bumping with entertainment fever. Although the natural beauty of the Oregon coastline within Arcadia Bay is breathtaking in its own right, _this _is what the town can never fully deliver – a unique, city-dweller experience. It's not exactly the cultural hub of the United States like Los Angeles or New York City could be considered as, but the building blocks are there. Pubs line the street they're on as they pass by a bunch of sneering, drunken men and women make cat calls to the teens as they race by.

"Where ya goin'?" one of them drunkenly slurs, trying to chase after them but falling onto the sidewalk as all of his friends start to chuckle hysterically. "We… we ain't even had our date yet, young thing! Don't I at least get a kiss goodbye?"

"Gross…" Max mumbles as she tries to keep up with Clementine's outrageous pace; fueled only by her desire to get things back to the way they were before. "Ugh… I think my lungs are gonna burst! Could you please slow down a little bit?"

"Not until we get there…"

"Do you even know where we're going? I'm pretty sure we've passed this same street twice now."

Stopping herself at the crosswalk, just in time for a particularly aggressive driver to roll down his window and yell profanities at the teens for not watching where they were going, Clementine does a quick double-take of her surroundings. The broken bench with graffiti strewn all over, all of the closed daytime restaurants on the other side of the road, that antiquities shop that's definitely seen better days, the rows upon rows of pubs in behind them… yeah, they've passed this place numerous times by now. This entire time, as Clem has apparently gotten caught up in her own anxiety and worry, she hadn't even noticed that the two girls have been running in circles.

"Shit…" she swears before kicking the sidewalk with her bare foot, really wishing that she would've brought a pair of shoes along with her now. "Do you know what time it is? Does it say on your phone or anything?"

Digging through her pocket and pulling it out, Max is discouraged to find that the cellular device is getting very messed up by the time rewind; with the screen all messed up and filled with static as she shrugs her shoulders.

Discouraged that they may have wasted some valuable minutes trying to find the movie theater, Clementine sighs as she watches Max rewind time once again by sticking her hand out. However, she quickly notices that at this point in the ball game, with the two of them already far back in time as it is, Max's energy is quickly waning. Blood slowly flows out of her nose and onto her chin as Clementine tries to help her to her feet.

"That probably gave us a little bit longer, at least," Clementine appreciatively comments as they head back towards the pubs. "Come on… they're bound to let us in if you've got a bloody nose. We can get you cleaned up, and maybe we can get some directions from one of the people inside. I can't believe that I don't remember how to get there…"

Not needing to be told twice, Max allows Clementine to lead her towards the first pub that they see – affectionately titled "The Loose Goose" as they approach the main entrance. The only thing standing between them and their objective is a bulky, bald African-American with a slightly-torn ear and a somewhat friendly demeanor. Immediately recognizing him as the bouncer for this establishment, Clementine gulps as the two of them approach.

"Hey now," the man halts their progress, smirking at them as he folds his arms together. "Sorry girls, but I'm gonna have to see some ID. Legal age to get in is twenty-one. Sorry, but I don't make the rules."

"We're not trying to drink here!" Clementine exclaims, feeling slightly annoyed as the bouncer looks down at her pyjamas with a wry smirk and a chuckle.

"Yeah," he jokes, seeming like a pretty kind soul despite his slightly menacing appearance, "I can see that."

"We just need some paper towels so that she can get her nose cleaned up," Clem explains, lightly nudging Max forward as the man's eyes widen a little bit. Clearly he hadn't seen the girl's face properly until now.

"Aw shit, eh?" he frowns in concern, tilting Max's chin up to get a better look at her. "Damn… look, I still can't let you inside, but how's about I go grab you a damp cloth to bring back? I'll just be – "

"Oh for god sakes, Mike, just let 'em in…"

Puzzled and a little bit surprised, Mike turns around to find a short-haired woman cleaning out some of the glasses with a linen cloth from behind the bar. "You sure?" he asks, probably not wanting his job to be on the line in case he does something that he's not supposed to. "I mean, remember when that kid in the Stone Mountain letterman jacket came by, and I let him inside for ten minutes? Bonnie almost had my head when he tried to order something…"

Rolling her eyes and scoffing, _Jane _(as her name tag implies) motions with her hand for Max and Clementine to come on inside the bar; with Mike reluctantly stepping to the side as she assures him that everything will be fine. "Don't get your panties in a bunch – they're not here to get shit-faced or anything. Right?" she probes, glancing pointedly at the two girls as they both nod their heads vigorously. Nudging with her head to the right, Jane proceeds to pour a glass of Guinness for one of the customers as she speaks up again. "Bathroom's down the stairs on the right-hand side. Can't miss it," she tells Max in particular, who thanks her quietly and scurries down the stairs. "You guys want a couple of waters or anything? It's weird to see folks in here without a drink in their hand."

"No, but thank you," Clementine shakes her head politely, deciding to take a look around the bar while she waits for her friend to return. In the meantime, she decides that the best thing to do would be to try and look around for any useful information she can find about this particular night.

Clem didn't go down this street on a whim – when she and Max had left the house, the girl was certain (nearly positive) that the theater would be in this general direction, so they can't be too far away. Perhaps somebody saw a shady character sprinting by or hiding out in the streets somewhere, possibly having spotted Carver and knowing where he might be hiding? Not that that's really going to do Clem much good by herself, since she can't really dissuade the man or try to tackle him to the ground without risking her own life.

But the cops in this town might be able to do something… even though she's really got no idea where to even send them.

Glancing at the television screen hung high in the corner, she reads that the time is about 12:53 in the morning; meaning that her parents must've been finished watching the movie and on their way to chill out with their friends at this point. There isn't anyone around who really fits the profile of Carver, so she comes to the conclusion that the murder didn't take place in this pub at the time. With only a few patrons around, each of them minding their own business and not trying to bother anyone else, Clementine can't help but feel a little overwhelmed.

Deciding right then and there that she needs some directions towards the movie theater, just in case they can make it in time, Clementine heads towards a couple sitting in a booth over by the windows. One of them is a dorkier-looking man with a slightly plump figure wearing socks and sandals to match his pine-green shirt, and the other is a pretty young woman who Clem almost instantly recognizes as Carley – a news reporter who she frequently sees on television.

"Umm… hi, sorry to bother you," Clementine apologizes, offering an awkward smile as she folds her hands together. "But my friend and I are a little lost… would you happen to know where the closest movie theater is around here? We had some… difficulties in finding our way around…"

Nodding his head, the man points away from the three of them as he explains that the movie theater is merely a few blocks away, but not down the street that she and Max had been venturing beforehand. "You can even see the lights in the sky from over here. See?" he tells her, with Clementine nodding as she can faintly make out the patterns in the distance. "I was always amazed at all of the motion capture technology some of these directors were able to use for some of the newer stuff… I'd love to get my hands on some prototypes for the cameras they're using."

"You're such a monumental dork," Carley teases, lightly punching him on the shoulder as the two of them share a tasty-looking chocolate sundae. Looks as though this is their date night. "Well, I hope you end up finding what you're looking for out there. What movie were you planning on seeing?"

"Gravity…" she trails off, lying about the flick but quickly excusing herself from the conversation as not only Max comes up the stairs, but also two of the last people she had expected to see come strolling in through the front doors.

"Clem? What are you doin' here?" Kenny questions as Katjaa walks in behind him, equally as surprised to see the eighteen year old as Clem feels her throat run dry.

If they're here, and this is the pub that they and her parents were supposed to meet at, then that means… Carver should be just around the corner.

Her stomach drops as she sees the bastard racing past the pub; barely anything but a shadowy figure as Mike urges the strange man to slow down.

"REWIND! NOW!" Clementine hollers over at Max as the entire bar looks upon the duo as if they've both lost their minds.


	11. Timelines

Every sensible bone in her whole body is telling her that suddenly blurting out to Max about rewinding time – in the middle of a semi-crowded bar no less – was a terrible idea, but her brain isn't exactly complying with what her instincts are warning her about. Or rather, her _heart _isn't agreeing, not with so much at stake. Her parents' lives are very much on the line here, and that desperation, that _longing _for their love and compassion to fill her with warmth once again has blindsided her from everything else.

Max looks over at her as if she's completely insane, but not for the same reason that everyone else is looking at her.

"Whoa, easy there, Clem," Kenny mutters, awkwardly looking around and mentioning for his wife, Katjaa, to grab one of the empty booths so that they can talk in peace. Too many prying eyes are glancing in their direction right now as Clementine struggles to get past the happy couple. It's not that she doesn't appreciate being able to see them again, but Clem's problems are greater than being able to exchange pleasantries with some old friends. "Ehh… you feelin' alright, darlin'? Quite the spectacle you're putting on over here…"

"Ken, please…" Katjaa lightly scolds him, shaking her head with a disapproving glance. "Don't embarrass her – you're just making things worse right now."

"_Sigh… _alright, hon," Kenny mumbles, rolling his eyes and chuckling as his wife playfully smacks him on the shoulder. With Clementine so intent on getting past them, however, it's difficult for the fisherman to keep himself from wondering. "Clem, c'mon – you're already here, why not share an appetizer with us? My treat," he proposes, concerned that Mr. and Mrs. Marsh may not have told them about some disclosed medical/mental trauma that the girl may be currently experiencing. That would certainly explain this erratic behaviour. "Why don't you invite your friend on over here with us?" Kenny suggests with a beckon of his hand. Turning to the girl with a small smile, the man then tries to get the attention of the bartender as he waves his hand around. "Howdy there! Could we get a plate of nachos for the girls here?"

Rolling her eyes, Jane grumbles under her breath before turning back around, wiping out the remainder of the glass and heading back towards the kitchen; leaving one of the patrons with an empty cup as he complains and tries to hop the bar when he thinks that she isn't looking. One holler from behind the revolving doors stops the man dead in his tracks though, as Max gulps and starts to head over to the table. Clem seems to be boiling about the fact that she hasn't just rewound time yet, but she can't yet appreciate how delicate these types of matters are. Nothing with time travel is ever simple – that was one of the first lessons that Max had learned.

"What a grouch…" Kenny comments on Jane's behaviour, paying it no heed as his wife smiles at the newcomer. The couple still find it a little odd how edgy and antsy they seem to be, what with Clementine snapping her head to the window every chance she gets, but they figure that it's not really any of their business to be telling the girls what to do. They aren't their parents, and they know for a fact that Clem would normally open up to them if she was ready to.

Clementine's fingers incessantly tap on the table as her eyes grow wide and her bottom lip trembles in fear. Max can only try reaching out her hand below the table in order to try for some flicker of power, but the most she can do right now is to send them back a couple of milliseconds – not even coming close to being worth the effort.

While she waits for it to charge up, Max grins sheepishly as Katjaa asks what her name is. "M-Max Caulfield…" she stutters unintentionally, introducing herself as she gives Kenny and Katjaa a handshake.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Max," Katjaa nods, wanting to know more. "So… how do you two know each other? Are you going to the same high school? I just figured that our son Duck would've said something if he had seen the two of you hanging out around the building," she mentions, causing Max to gulp as she is forced to think on the fly.

"Umm… yeah! Yes, that's exactly it," she nods furiously, lying straight through her teeth as Kenny raises a suspicious eyebrow over at her. Fortunately for Max, however, he once again says nothing and instead thanks a waiter for handing him and Katjaa a couple of drink menus. "Clem and I, well… we met at a drama club at high school this year – it's really small, though. Aside from us, there's like one other kid in it," she fibs, leaving Clementine to wonder where the hell she's trying to string this story.

Smiling with that sweet, motherly affection that Clem had come to know and grow quite fond of over the years, Katjaa widens her eyes when she hears the news. "Really?" she inquires with quite a bit more interest than Clementine had expected. "Well that's really something! Clem, you don't have to be embarrassed to tell us a thing like that – I was actually in a drama club myself back in the day… Ken here even swung by for a couple of sessions, come to think of it."

"Longest four hours of my life…" he jokes, earning a playful shove as Jane comes back with a steaming pan of nachos for the four of them to enjoy. "Wow, that was pretty darn quick! Say…" he trails off, rising his curiosity as he raises one of the chips while Jane seeks to make a hasty getaway. "Are these… microwaved? You didn't happen to just serve us up some leftovers, now did ya, miss?"

Winking humorously over at Max, Jane pretends to spit on the tray before heading back towards her spot at the bar. "Consider it half-price tonight, then," she admits, chuckling lightly as Kenny glares at the back of her head.

Deciding to get back to the folks at hand instead of going up to that smart-mouthed bitch and demanding a refund, Kenny breathes deeply as the air rumbles through his chest; eyebrows furrowing in slight worry as Clementine stares out the window, looking as though somebody has just run over her puppy with their car. With Katjaa still deep in conversation while a shy, anxious Max Caulfield nods at pretty much everything being said, Kenny reaches over and lightly places his hand on top of her shoulder.

Flinching, Clementine releases a shaky breath before turning her gaze away from Kenny. Desperately she tries to get Max to move out of the booth so that they can get outside, but Kenny for the life of him can't figure out why.

"C'mon, Clementine… we're doing this for _you,_" he points out, trying to encourage her to stay with limited success. Frowning deeply as the girl almost makes it out to the floor, Kenny tries in vain to snatch onto her wrist as Clementine shakes Max's shoulder like a maraca. "Hell, I know it ain't any of our business, but could you at least tell us what's goin' on? You're kind of scaring us, kiddo…"

Katjaa doesn't even try to argue that, as even she is having some difficulties with understanding what's gotten the eighteen year old girl so upset… along with why she'd be out on the town like this so underdressed.

Nearly scratching her nails on the wooden table as she trips out onto the floor, taking Max down to the ceramic tiles with her, Clementine is so preoccupied with her prior knowledge that she doesn't even apologize for her rude behaviour. _I can't miss this… _she thinks to herself, sprinting towards the front door as Max brings time to a brief standstill.

It's fascinating for her, really; to be able to see time being bent to someone else's will. Clementine can see particles in the air glittering as they stay abruptly in place, with the light raindrops slowly starting to climb back up the windowsill as Max's power starts to kick in. The hairs on the back of her neck prickle with awe even to this day, and the girl's absolutely certain that after discovering that she isn't affected by Max's ability, that she'll never be surprised by anything else ever again. There's just no comparison in the world today – nothing could even come close.

"…I think that's him…" Clementine points out, watching as the shadowy figure she had spotted before is jogging backwards as the environment reverses around her. Max can't say a word about it with all of the concentration that's required, but Clem can tell that she sees him, too. She had never been to the actual scene of the crime herself, with the police being afraid that the girl could've potentially done something to disrupt the evidence, but she's almost certain that it took place right here; right around this street.

A cold sweat forms on the girl's forehead as shivers are sent up and down her spine. Clementine's never been so terrified, and yet she's also never felt more of a drive than the one she's experiencing right now. It's almost as if she's been bottling up her true courage deep inside of her for so long that Clem hadn't even realized that it was there in the first place.

Cringing at how unbelievably cheesy that sounded in her head, Clementine walks out onto the sidewalk, rushes over to a dark, creepy alley over beside the bar, and hides behind a smelly garbage can as Kenny and Katjaa once again start to enter the building; completely unaware of what just transpired.

"Drama club? Really?" she questions as Max joins at her side moments later, finding it cute how that's the only plausible excuse she could think of in her head at the time. Accidentally bumping into the trash bin as a rat the size of a hare scurries out from underneath, she turns toward her friend with a sort of half-smile. "You couldn't have just said that you were a friend visiting from out of town or something? We don't want to arouse suspicion here, you know."

"Maybe I would've kept a level head about it if you hadn't yelled out for me to rewind time in the middle of a pub…"

"Hmph, true enough."

Spotting the nervous look upon her new friend's face, Max sighs as she takes a chance and grabs onto Clementine's hand, who responds by squeezing it tightly. Even though she won't openly admit it, Max being with her right now speaks volumes – she _needs _her here, more than Clem even realizes.

"What do you want to do?" Max whispers, hearing Mike tell the shady man to take it easy as he zooms by with malicious intent. Carver would probably look like your average petty thief were it not for the intimidating presence he wields. He hasn't even said a word, and yet Max already has some uneasy shivers crawling up and down her spine.

Creepy can't even begin to describe it.

Knowing deep down that the cops won't be here in time to take him down, and not wanting to put her friend in danger or anything by overexerting her time bending ability, Clementine tries to think on her feet as she points over to one of the streetlamps standing tall across the street. "There," she mentions, pointing it out as Max sees that the lightbulb is shattered, presumably by a group of vandals given the condition of the rest of the road. "Follow me – maybe we can take him by surprise or something."

"_Or something_?" Max repeats, wondering if she heard that right as Clem's hasty plan is set into motion. Her heart beats like a drum in her chest as she follows the ebony-haired eighteen year old across the asphalt; sprinting like a madwoman as she crawls behind a graffiti-ridden wooden bench with a whole bunch of profanities strewn under her breath. She's got to admit – Max hadn't exactly thought that her night would end up on a stakeout like this. She can't help but wonder what Chloe's going to make of all of this when they get back to their own timeline. Will she even realize that they've been gone for so long? And what else have they changed so far? Has the timeline been forever skewed?

Rubbing her arms to stow off that chill in the cold, night air, Max can see her breath in front of her face as she glances over to Clementine again, wondering what _she herself _is thinking right about now. Is it fear? Anxiety? Both of those would make sense, all things considered, but the girl looks too determined to allow either of them to affect her too much. Tonight, Clem's a warrior – a fierce combatant with retribution on her mind and the fire inside her to actually pull something off.

It's more than likely something very stupid, but it's still… _something_.

Max is about to ask her what the hell she plans on doing when, without warning, a small station wagon pulls up to the curb on the other side of the road; adjacent to the pub where Kenny and Katjaa have already resided. Not even needing to see the faces to know who it is inside, Clementine's breath hitches in her throat as she sees her parents undo their seatbelts. Just seeing them both alive like this is causing her insides to tighten up into little balls; seeking the comfort of their embrace as she has half a mind to rush over and tackle them in a fit of hugs and kisses. What she wouldn't give to smell her father's cologne or to feel her mother's soothing fingertips tracing circles upon her back one last time…

"_Diana… stay in the car, honey…"_

"…_I'm not leaving you alone out here, Ed…"_

"_Please, just… quickly! Take off and get back to the house – keep Clementine safe!"_

"I was thinking that this should only be a parental affair and nothing more, but now that you mention it…" Carver harshly hisses out, knocking on the passenger window of the car as Ed's knuckles tighten around the steering wheel, "I'm gonna make this real simple for ya. Either the both of you come out and settle this right now, or I send some of my boys over to your house to find your precious _Clementine_. You put the pieces together."

"Clem…" Max whispers, urgently trying to keep her friend from booking it over there and doing something she'll regret. "Think about this, alright? What the hell are you gonna do? Go up and grab his gun? He's got the upper hand!"

Teeth chattering and blood boiling, Clementine breaks free of Max's grasp as she tiptoes over towards an abandoned building across the way; somehow managing to avoid detection from Carver and her parents as Max nearly doubles over. What's even more surprising is how oblivious Mike has been to the whole situation; not even batting an eyelid when there's a crazy man with a fully loaded magnum threatening a couple right outside his bar. Aren't adults supposed to know what to do?

Seeming to have no other choice, Ed and Diana step outside of their car and walk down the dark alleyway in between Clem's location and the bar beside them. Max can't help but roll her eyes at the backdrop; finding it really clichéd that they'd end up in the place where just about every crime drama on television has ever taken place. Coupled with the fact that this "Carver" person looks almost like a member of the mafia, and you've got the setpiece for a below-average Sopranos episode…

Once the three of them are out of sight, Max too scurries across the street to find that Clementine is listening in on their conversation and trying to find something to distract him with. "This should work…" she mumbles, lightly tossing a brick in her hand as she prepares to toss it right at Carver's face. Just as she's about to do so, however, she stops herself as Carver talks to her parents once again.

"You really thought you were being clever about this, huh? Thought that you'd pull a fast one over my eyes, that I wouldn't find out…" he rants, placing his gun at the side for a moment as he smugly folds his arms over his chest. "Typical. Nobody ever wants to own up and admit they fucked up. I gave you plenty of chances here, you know. It didn't have to come to this. You could've given me the medicine _without _selling me out, but you didn't. Have you ever been forced out of your own home and thrown to the wolves before, Diana? Like I have?" he questions, eyeing Ed carefully as Clementine puts a hand over her mouth. "This could've been so much easier… but now you have to pay the price. I'm truly sorry that it's come to this…"

Without putting any real thought into it, Clementine suddenly bursts from her cover – much to the surprise of her mom – and throws the brick right at the back of Carver's head; stunning him temporarily as she tries to charge ahead. Max's brain burns like fire as she tries to rewind time again, failing to do so as she collapses to the ground. Watching helplessly as Clementine is backhanded by Carver's flailing arm, Max weakly raises her arm up and asks him to stop.

Naturally, nobody can hear a word she says.

"NO!" Ed barks out, starting to head straight towards his daughter as Carver fires off a warning shot near his feet. Shaking his head, the madman mocks the distraught couple and waves a disapproving finger in front of them. "C'mon, now," he says; one arm locked around their daughter's neck tightly as he speaks, "no need to do anything rash. I think we've just found the ace in the hole right here!"

Spluttering as she nearly doubles over with worry, Diana begs and pleads with Bill to let their child go as Clementine starts to clue in that this wasn't a very bright idea.

In a coughing fit, she struggles to breathe. "G-get… off me! You son of a – "

"Feisty one, aren't ya?" he teases, shooting Diana square in the leg as Clementine screams for him to stop; having to shriek over her mother's pained cries and her father's own yells. "Let me make this real simple for you all: you screwed me over, and now I'm going to do the same in kind. Say goodbye to your precious daughter over here."

Panic erupting in her system, Clementine bites down onto her captor's hand as he grunts and slams her against the door of his truck; parked deeper into the alley as he shoots the charging Ed right in the chest. A ringing sound forms in her ears as Clem's vision starts to blur, and Max finally manages to make it to her feet as she stumbles her way over to the car.

Seeing this, Bill tries to fire his gun straight at the girl, but the empty click of the weapon causes him to open the passenger door and toss Clementine inside instead. Quickly fumbling for the keys in his pocket, Carver finally grasps onto the set as he tries to put the car into the "drive" position.

That is, until Clementine takes a pen from the front cupholder and jabs him right in the shoulder with it. Blood and ink mix together as he groans in pain, but the crazed maniac is only fueled by his cold, calculating attitude. Within seconds, he's got the girl by her hair as he slams her face repeatedly against the dashboard.

"You're _really _starting to piss me off today…" he growls lowly as he continues to bash her face against the front of the car. Clementine's front teeth are gnashed together as her jaw breaks, her nose heavily bleeds and gets mangled up in the upholstery, and her left eye is crushed from the impact. Almost instantly falling unconscious as she lifelessly falls against the door, Clementine's limp body causes Max to yell out in terror.

There's no way in hell that she can leave her friend like this, no matter the consequences. She wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that she had just let Clementine get beaten on so ruthlessly.

Finding the resolve deep within her, and feeling that familiar spark of energy that she has become accustomed to over the past little while, Max uses a good chunk of her power to rewind time once again; just before Carver is about to mow her down with his Chevy pickup truck.

All rational thought goes straight out the window. In an instant, Carver reverses the truck as the headlights switch off and he steps back out of the vehicle; completely oblivious as the bullet worms its way back into his pistol. Ed and Diana are magically healed once again, albeit temporarily, but the odd thing is entirely about Clementine – Max can see her wounds healing, but the girl is still entirely unconscious. Quickly ducking into the front seat before Carver can tell the difference, Max hurriedly tries to shake the girl awake. However, it's no use. Clementine is completely out cold.

"_Diana… stay in the car, honey…"_

"…_I'm not leaving you alone out here, Ed…"_

"Oh god…" Max gasps quietly, leaning back in her seat as she watches the whole exchange go down once again. Knowing that she's really the only person here who has any real say over what's going to happen, and knowing that without Clem awake there's nothing she can do to prevent this, Max makes a split-second decision.

Grasping onto Clem's hat, the teen takes a deep breath; brushing her fingers through the girl's dark, curly locks and apologizing over and over again. "There's no other way… I'm… I'm so sorry, Clementine…" she mutters, trying to focus on the object in order to return to their own time period – a few months from now.

It takes a lot out of her, both physically and emotionally, but within a few more minutes, Max is finally able to do it; hearing a couple of gunshots and some frantic yells from Kenny, Mike and Katjaa as they all rush outside.

Her world goes blank as time and space rush past her head like a whirlwind.

* * *

"…_yoo-hoo? Earth to Max? …helloooooooo?"_

A light blinds her eyes, keeping her from seeing anything apart from the shadowy figure of a beanie-wearing, blue-haired angel coaxing her gently as Max sighs in content. Is… is this how it ends? Has she just died and gone to heaven? Who could this punk rock beauty be that's…

Nope, she's not dead – at least, not to her knowledge. The "light" is merely a flashlight that her best friend, Chloe Price, is shining in her face to try and wake her up. As annoying as it is, it's working pretty effectively.

_Angel? _Max jokes to herself, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she's helped to sit up from the office floor. _Pfft… I don't think that Chloe's real "goody-goody" material. And that's just how I like her._

Feeling her back being supported as she groggily turns to face Chloe, Max breathes heavily and doesn't say anything for a while. Trying to get her bearings and figure out what the hell is going on is more important than trying to rush into trouble again.

"Is this a new thing with you? Spacing out, I mean. I mean, you were pretty brain-dead and all when we were kids, but…" she jokes, earning a ghost of a smile as Chloe's expression turns grim again. "Seriously though, what's up? Your face went all green and I totally thought you were gonna hurl. It would be pretty funny if you messed up Principal Wells' carpet and all, but not the office chair though."

"You're not taking the chair, Chloe."

"How did you – "

"It doesn't take rewind powers for me to figure you out," she mentions with a grin, trying to stand on her feet as Chloe helps her rise up. Max's knees buckle and threaten to give out as she tries to put some weight on Chloe's shoulder, just _waiting _for some snarky comment about her weight, but thankfully none come. "How long was I out?" she inquires, curious to see whether any time has passed since her and Clementine's fateful adventure took place.

Shrugging her shoulders and setting the girl down on top of the desk, nearly knocking off the guy's prized bronze bird in the process, Chloe explains that it was literally only for about two minutes or so at the most.

_That's impossible… _Max mulls over, holding her head in her hands as she tries to nurse a growing migraine. _We… we were gone for hours, at least. Has… has anything changed since then? Have we made things even more fucked up than before?_

Wanting to know for sure, Max tries to look around Chloe over towards the filing cabinet that she was at before she had collapsed. "Can… can I see that report again? That one on the floor there…" she describes, watching as Chloe raises an eyebrow upon noticing the name of the student plastered onto it.

"Oookay…" she drawls out, wearily handing it back to Max even though she had just witnessed her passing out with the thing not even moments earlier. "You sure you're up for that right now? Maybe you should just chill out for a little while. You've been getting into trouble and shit over the past week more times than I can count. This place is giving me the creeps, anyways."

"Just call me _Danger-Prone Daphne_," Max teases, paying the warning no heed as she flips through the numerous letters and student profiles stapled together in Clementine's file. Much of it is the same as what she had seen before, and she's made sure to avoid the sections that had caused her to have this relapse of time power, but something strikes out near the bottom of the page.

Quite a bit of personal information has been blacked out in pen, and several of Clementine's drawings as well as a few pictures of her around campus have also been snuck inside for some reason.

"The hell…?" she mutters, wondering why Mr. Jefferson's signature is down at the bottom as Chloe widens her eyes and urges for Max to come out into the hallway with her. "Chloe, what's – "

"Where's she going?" Chloe interrupts, totally confused as to why Clementine's just sprung out of Blackwell and slammed the door behind her; not even bothering to provide an explanation. The loud bang that follows her exit ricochets down the hallway, and Max can't help but drop the folder onto the floor; spilling its contents as guilt riddles her being. This is her fault, and she damn well knows it.

Max can't even find the words to mention that, according to the report in this timeline, Carver had somehow escaped the police and is still at large. She nearly chokes with the knowledge that not only are Clementine's parents buried six feet underground, but their killer, in this new reality, was never brought to justice.

And there's not a damn thing she can do about it.

* * *

_AN: Hey there – been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that. My computer's been on the fritz and we've only just been able to put this latest chapter together._

_But anyways, onto some of the reviews!_

_Lilacs Bloom: Hey, thanks for checking it out! Yeah, Frank kind of got axed pretty early on XD But trust me, it was necessary. We needed to get across that unspoken tension between Chloe, Max and Clementine while also trying to explain some of the time powers, and we kind of wanted to deviate from the game a little bit with that – even though *spoilers* Frank can die depending on the choices you make. Regardless, we both appreciate that you've been liking it so far, so thanks for reviewing :)_

_Guests: Yeah, we've both played episode four, but I'll get to that in a sec. They revealed that Chloe became paralyzed because of a car crash after she was (presumably) driving recklessly in a car that she got for her birthday. Sucks, but thankfully (or not, depending on how you feel about her dad) that was reversed later on._

_But none of that really fucking matters now, does it?! God damn, episode 4… I think I just died a little bit inside lol. What an ending… I was totally not expecting it, even though spiderclone over here was XD _

_For those of you wondering, we're not going to do the exact same thing as what we see in the game, so hopefully there'll be some surprises – including why Mr. Jefferson's name was signed in Clem's report, the whole Carver thing, etc. _

_So that's it for now. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it, and we'll be back with the next chapter as soon as we can! Thanks for reading!_


	12. In the doghouse

A soft glow resonates through the curtains, spreading the warmth of sunlight into the room as Chloe's eyes groggily open. With her back sprawled out onto her mattress while her head rests comfortably on her pillow, the teen really feels content enough to just sit back and lounge for a little while. She's actually considering just taking the whole day off and just… relaxing.

She's got all the sleep that she needs for right now, but Chloe's got a hankering for that peace and quiet that she just can't find anywhere else, be it the house or the town in general. These days, it seems there's always something going on around Arcadia Bay – usually nothing good. Who would've thought that the same person that wanted to get away from all the quietness and boredom would actually start to miss it?

Lightly swiping some of the bangs out of her eyes, dyed blue a few years after her father was killed in that car accident, Chloe stifles back a yawn with the crook of her arm as she stares up at the ceiling. It's… nice. Chill, even. If the radio was on quietly and playing one of the songs on her old mixtape, then this might even be Chloe's version of a paradise. Sadly though, the idea of David marching up to her room and banging on the door to turn the racket off isn't really settling well with her. It'd be straight up boot camp all over again, as if living under this roof wasn't already like that to begin with.

Feeling the bed rumble beside her, Chloe darts her eyes to her right as she remembers who else had stayed with her last night. Max has never been a stranger to sleeping in, and after what happened at the school last night, Chloe wouldn't be surprised if she ended up sleeping through a nuclear bomb. Or, you know, a tornado.

Yeah… she's still got no idea what to think about that one. But the world can wait for at least a few more hours, right? It's not as if she plans on staying for much longer anyways.

"Out like a light…" she whispers as to not wake her best friend up, smirking as she notices a little bit of drool coming out the side of her mouth. Making a note to tease her about it later, Chloe sighs and slowly swings her legs over the side of the bed. No sense in just lounging in the same spot when she's got the entire skyline to look forward to from the windowsill.

Not caring about her hair being a jumbled mess right now, since that's usually how she wears it anyways, the girl reaches for the clouds as she stretches her arms above her head; getting all of the kinks out of her spine as she grunts slightly. That sleep wasn't nearly as comfortable as she had thought it would be. Perhaps using the same mattress that she's had since before William passed away has really worn out the material and sponginess of it, but honestly, Chloe can't really be bothered to bring it up with her folks. It's not as if they've got the cash for something like that anyways. Her mom and David have a hard enough time paying off the damn mortgage, let alone being able to afford much else.

"…Nnngghh… C-Chlo…e…" Max mumbles in her sleep, subconsciously reaching out her arm on the bed as her friend steps over towards the window.

"God, you're fucking adorable…" Chloe rolls her eyes, finding it really amusing as she indulges the girl and briefly strokes the top of her hand back and forth for a few seconds. "See? Can't get rid of me that easily, Max," she softly murmurs in order to ease her apparent anxiety. Somehow that manages to actually work, as Max's breathing steadies and once again she returns to her blissful sleep. Chloe can't help but feel envious on how easily this is coming to her.

Why can't she be like that? All calm and collected in the face of overwhelming odds? Chloe might talk a big game and be constantly trying to break Max out of her shell to experience new things, but she hates to admit that in some instances… Max Caulfield is actually the braver of the two.

Propping herself up on the ledge and pulling the curtain back slightly to see the sunrise on the horizon, Chloe frowns and ponders this. This kind of crap has been going on for way too long in her life, but it scares the living shit out of her whenever she thinks about it. Chloe struggled for a long time coping with her father being killed (which she still hasn't fully come to terms with, incidentally). Between that, the constant arguments with her mom and "Sergeant Pepper" Madsen, Max's sudden return and Racheal's sudden disappearance, there's been no shortage of anger and pain in the eighteen year old's short life thus far.

But above all, Chloe Price can't help but sometimes feel like the loneliest person in the whole world. That stings more than anything – that emptiness and abandonment that she feels inside. If William hadn't died, then her family wouldn't be shitting bricks like it is now. If Racheal was still in Arcadia Bay, the two of them could've started planning out how they were gonna grow old together under the warm California sun. And then there's Max… if she hadn't just left without even bothering to send over a fucking text message…

…well, that's pretty much the only plus side right now that she's got, as far as Chloe's concerned. And that one ray of sunshine in her dull, dreary life is still grumbling on the other side of her bed, safe and sound. Nothing but the two of them together again, side by side. They could take on the world together if they wanted to, although with Max's newly-found superpower, it would seem that the next time, Chloe would be the one playing the sidekick in their new adventure.

And you know what? She'd be okay with that. It's about time for Ms. Caulfield to start busting out of that shell of hers. Enough years were spent with Chloe being the one to lead them out on their merry adventures, and maybe this time it'd be _Max _that'll get into trouble for the crazy shenanigans they get up to. Yeah, that'd be alright.

Hearing a muffled yawn coming from the other side of the room, a small smile tugs at the corners of Chloe's lips. She lets her leg dangle over the windowsill and continues to stare out the window for a few seconds before turning her head over to her exhausted friend. "Mornin', Snorlax," she jokes, chuckling as she easily dodges one of the pillows that Max throws at her; smacking the wall and falling harmlessly to the floor. "I think your aim's a little off today. Too many drugs will do that, you know."

"Ha. Ha," Max replies sarcastically, letting the covers slide down as she sits up in the bed. "Ugh, but you might be right about that. I feel awful…" she claims, trying to use her best puppy dog eyes as she pouts out her bottom lip. "We might be a little old for this now, but… paging Dr. Chloe?"

"Did you seriously try to pull that one over me?"

"Yes. Some pancakes or a batch of your home-made waffles would be great right now, Chloe."

"In your dreams, Caulfield. You're not even supposed to be here, remember? That whole _stake-out mission _and everything?"

It's weird, but Max had actually almost completely forgotten about what had happened last night. Something about being in Chloe's room – all safe and tucked away from the troubles going on everywhere else – was making her feel better than she had been in weeks. The two of them had climbed in through the window last night, not wanting to wake up Joyce or risk leaving the lights on for when David came home. Things had gotten pretty intense after Clementine had left, with three of Blackwell's security guards (including David Madsen, incidentally) searching the halls after having heard some strange noises coming from inside the school. Chloe and Max had escaped by the skin of their teeth, with the former screeching and laughing all the way home at their hella-awesome victory.

Even for Max, that part was pretty cool. It had felt like she was in one of those high-adrenaline action movies that her dad used to watch with her back in Seattle, and she's got to admit that watching Blackwell eat their dust as they drove off into the night was pretty fucking exhilarating.

"I'm sure she's fine."

"Huh?"

"Clem," Chloe mentions, apparently having the ability to read minds as she opens the window a little bit to let the breeze flow through. "She probably just got a little spooked by whatever it is you showed her last night, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. Just give her some space – we all need that once in a while."

Blinking a few times, Max stumbles over her words as she sighs deeply, closes her eyes and rustles her hands through her medium-length brown hair. Oh if only Chloe knew… if only she could've seen what had happened with her own eyes. It'd probably get through to her more than most – relating to having a parent get killed, that is. Max still has a hard time coming to terms with how the two of them wound up in Georgia in the first place, let alone figuring out that they inadvertently changed the timeline into something quite possibly worse than what it was before. With Carver still at large, there's no telling what havoc he could be reeking back out in Atlanta, not to mention how horrible Clementine must feel now that her parents' killer is back on the loose.

Chloe had once called her a superhero, but the girl certainly isn't feeling so super right now.

"Did anyone see us come in last night?" Max asks suddenly, deciding to change the subject before things become too melodramatic. That's the last thing she would need right now.

Shaking her head and tapping on the glass, Chloe rolls open the window to allow the breeze to flow inside. Her backyard smells like freshly-cut grass and a hint of pine tree, but that's likely coming from the neighbour's yard next door. The Price backyard has usually stayed empty over the past few years, with Max having been the first one on that swing since she had left for Seattle nearly five years ago.

"Doubt it – one of 'em would be banging on the door trying to strangle me if they did," she mentions, referring obviously to Joyce and David as she rolls her eyes. "Just stop worrying about it, alright? We're fine. And besides," she adds, watching Max step out of the bed and wipe some of the sleep from her eyes, "it's not as if it was breaking and entering, right? I still live here and all…"

"At this rate you'll probably be bunking with me," Max jokes as she joins her best friend on the ledge; overlooking the skyline as she leans her head on Chloe's shoulder. "Thanks, though. I think I'm gonna go visit Kate again after school today. It's been way too long now, and I wouldn't want her to feel abandoned. Wanna tag along?"

With a knowing smirk upon her lips, Chloe looks down at her friend with skepticism. "Aren't you still suspended though?"

"…shit."

"Look at you, fucking rebel! You've gotta be the first person I've known trying to break yourself _back into _class!"

"Ha, yeah… Mr. Jefferson would probably kill me if he found out that I – "

Interrupted and startled by a sudden bang coming from the side of the house, Max nearly stumbles out the window before collecting herself and searching around for whatever that noise might've been.

"God damn it, no…" Chloe shudders, sporting a deeply concerned scowl as she sprints over to her clothes pile and pulls out her usual attire; dressing herself so quickly that all Max can see is a frenzied blur.

"Chloe, what are you – "

"Just hurry and come downstairs, alright?" she interrupts, pointing over to her closet as she zips up her jacket. It's a lot colder outside than it's been over the past few weeks. "Rachel left a few outfits in there that you can use… don't worry about it. She'd…" Chloe stops herself, shaking her head and turning away from Max before shutting the door behind her and sprinting down the stairs; nearly knocking into Joyce as she bounds the steps two at a time.

It pains her to see the girl still struggling over Rachel's disappearance, and Max can't help but scold herself over not having already started looking into this sooner. They had come into Blackwell late at night with the original intention of digging up any info they could on the stuff relating to Rachel and Kate, only to end up leaving early with neither of those things. Max had been so shaken up after Clementine sprinted home that Chloe really had no choice but to get them both out of there as soon as possible, and although she hadn't said it directly, Max can tell that Chloe felt a little annoyed about that. In hindsight, it seems pretty selfish.

_Just add that to the huge list of things I need to pay her back for… _she mulls to herself, groaning slightly before venturing into the closet to get a look at what she's dealing with here.

Hmm… red and black plaid? Not too shabby…

* * *

_Knock-knock-knock-knock!_

"Clem?" Lee calls out, not wanting to intrude on the girl's privacy in any way. Despite this technically being _his _house, he still has a hope that one day she'll also accept it as her own as well. And that starts with the little things. "Honey, mind if I come in for a little bit? I think, uhh… maybe we ought to talk some more here. Help straighten each other out."

A deafening silence greets him as the nutty professor awaits some kind of response for a few seconds, so, assuming that that calls as an invitation for him to come inside, Lee creaks open the door a little bit before sliding his head inside. What he sees inside alarms him – curtains closed, room dark and messy, various clothes and a bunch of her drawings scattered about the floor.

Sounds like an average teenage room, right? Well, Lee may not have been around the girl back home as much as he'd like to have been, but even he knows that Clem herself isn't this… _depressed_ normally. She'd have her moments from time to time, like most people, but never to the point that she'd simply be laying on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling and looking almost as if she had just died right under his nose.

Not giving off much of a reaction except squinting her eyes a little as Lee draws the curtains back, letting the morning sun fill the dreary room, Clementine continues to sit there unmoving as Lee feels her forehead.

"…well, you aren't feverish," he mentions, hoping that'll spark some conversation out of the girl as she simply stares off into space. "Come on, Clem. It's not healthy to just sit and take all of this on by yourself. Let me help you, sweet pea. What's going on?"

Breath hitching in her throat, Clem can't find her voice as she lightly shakes her head. How do you try to tell somebody a secret like this?

"You…" she squeaks out, clenching her left hand into a fist, "…you wouldn't understand…"

"Mmm… yeah, I suppose you're right. Can't say that I'd ever gone through something like this at your age," he agrees with a hint of sadness, obviously unable to get Clem's true meaning behind those words. And who could blame him? He'd think she was a freak if she had just openly admitted that she and a friend had gone back in time to try and save her parents' lives. "But… I'm more than willing to try."

Glancing at him for a moment, Clementine half expects there to be some kind of deceit or mistrust. That, unfortunately, is what she's been getting used to over the past year or so, if not more – people making all kinds of lies and false promises. She thought that Max was given this time control power to use for _good_, but instead… all that came out of it was a future even worse than what it was before. She had seen the newspaper clippings stapled furiously in one of her scrapbooks late last night: _KILLER ON THE LOOSE! WILLIAM CARVER MURDERS TWO! _

That one stung like a bitch. Still does, in fact.

"How do you move on from something like this?" she whispers, nearly having to repeat herself with her voice sounding so frail and quiet. She had spent so much time screaming and bawling into her pillow last night that she had been surprised Lee didn't barge in earlier, but she's grateful now that he hadn't seen her in such a pathetic display. She hates it when people see her when her guard's down – it's always been a bit of a pet peeve with her.

She knows that Lee is also a victim in this, seeing's how Ed was his brother and all, but honestly, that's just making the whole thing feel even worse. That's two lives struck by one man's selfish actions now. Four when you count the deceased. If Clementine had had her way, Carver would've hung from that fucking light post she and Max were hiding behind.

Naturally, she doesn't say any of this to Lee.

"Under normal circumstances, I'd probably say that it's better to talk about what happened and get it all off your chest… but I don't think you wanna do that right now," Lee insinuates, striking the nail right on the head with that one. "Whenever I'm feeling down in the dumps, I usually try to find things to take my mind off of it. Go out for a jog, sit on the beach and watch the whales go by, things like that."

Surprisingly, a small smirk graces Clementine's lips as Lee glances over expectantly. "Whale watching?"

"Yep. It's great for killing time, and it's a pretty decent pastime if you know where to find the best spots. Besides," he adds, over-exaggerating as he looks both ways to make sure no one else is looking, "sometimes I hide behind the evergreen trees and scare the living daylights out of the kids."

"You're kidding."

"Am I? Who do you think the sasquatch of Arcadia Bay is? I didn't think they'd actually take it so seriously, let alone hang up expedition posters at the diner, but now it's all just sort of a big game I'm playing," Lee explains, grinning with wicked delight. "I've even left fake tracks and fur lying around in the forest for some of them to find – best scavenger hunt of all time."

Eliciting more than a few chuckles out of the young girl, Lee feels content enough to sit back and feel relieved that, at least temporarily, he's gotten the desired effect. Lifting someone out of a depression is never an easy task, let alone one as deep and permeating as this one, but he isn't just going to sit back and watch the closest thing he's got to a daughter wallow in pitiful despair. That's a dangerous pit for her to fall into.

Lee had never realized though just how much Clementine had grown up in such a short period of time, and although that might have something to do with the fact that prior to this he had only seen her every couple of years, it's still true. He supposes that she kind of had to, given the circumstances. Not every child has had both of their parents murdered and been forced to move across the country to a new home, leaving everything she had ever known and loved behind.

He's been trying, but helping her adjust to things around here hasn't been easy. There've been quite a few roadblocks along the way, mainly to do with Blackwell and it's… rather eccentric inhabitants. But there has been at least some hope for renewal – she wasn't quite clear on the details, but over dinner the other night, Clem had mentioned that she had actually made a few friends along the way. Two in particular, now that he thinks about it. One she said was a quiet girl, really into photography – Lee had thought at the time that Clementine was actually kind of describing herself when she gave out her description. The other sounded to Lee like a bit of a troublemaker. Loyal and kind-hearted, but still a troublemaker. Lee wasn't sure if he liked the sound of that initially, but he supposed that (as bad as it might sound) beggars can't be choosers.

She hasn't brought either of them up since, and hasn't had either of them over at the house yet, so it's difficult for Lee to make a judgement call. He himself has had many students in his classes who looked like complete outcasts in society turn out to be some of his best and brightest students.

"I called the school ahead of time and told them you wouldn't be there today," he informs her as Clementine stays quiet for a bit. He didn't have to do that… "But that doesn't mean you can stay here in bed all day. C'mon, how about you come downstairs for some breakfast? It's too nice outside to be cooped up in here."

Knowing that a refusal would probably just disappoint her uncle, Clementine swallows and nods quietly; watching as Lee smiles and leaves her in momentary solace. Lee's always been her favourite relative, and that's not just because he'd let her stay home when she needed it. It was all of that – the hospitality, the understanding, the love. He could give her peace of mind when few others could do the same. Lee had that effect on most people, but the connection they have developed in such a short period of time… it was special. Clem could always come home knowing that she wasn't alone out in this strange, foreign land.

Although, come to think of it, she would appreciate it more if Lee wasn't always so damn preoccupied with his work to come home at a decent hour. However, concern for _his _wellbeing is more entrenched in that want than her own personal needs. Eleven at night is pushing it, especially when the guy has to hop back in his car at eight in the morning the next day.

The talk had been distracting her from the very reason that she was up here in the first place. Clem isn't willing to go out and potentially face Max Caulfield again, not after what went down. She might accidentally punch her in the face on instinct alone. And she feels incredibly selfish for thinking that way.

She doesn't remember a whole lot after getting dragged to the truck… there was a whole lot of yelling and screaming, the headlights were shining on the bodies of her parents even though reports say that she still wasn't anywhere _near _the scene.

Which is total bullshit… isn't it? Weren't she and Max trailing Carver and getting ready to pounce? What could've gone wrong?

A knock on the front door down below aggravates her growing headache even further, but it at least gives Clementine an excuse to hop out of the bed. Shivering at how chilly the air is this morning, and making a note of it to question Lee later on why he wanted the house to be at iceberg temperatures, Clementine rubs her arms and heads over towards the window. Squinting as the first rays of sunshine hit her square in the eyes, Clementine waits for a few seconds before trying to figure out who'd be knocking at this hour. If it's Chloe or Max, Clem's pretty sure that she'll either flip her shit or hop out the window.

Hmm… all she can see is Lee's beat-up piece of junk in the driveway, so it's really no indication as to who it might be. And her friends probably wouldn't bother to bug her and come all the way out here without a text first. They aren't exactly on the best terms after all, and to basically come over and invite themselves in now would be a little weird.

The voices, although muffled from the door blocking off the sound, sound more like a couple of men than either Chloe or Max though, but still, her curiosity is piqued.

Wanting to find out for herself, Clem quickly pulls out a set of clothes from the closet and straps them on, not caring what they look like or any of that crap. Once that's finished, she carefully and quietly opens her door and pokes her head out to see who it might be.

"Can I get you fellas anything? Tea? Coffee?"

"Coffee, and a couple of mugs would be great, thank you."

Cops – shit! The uniforms they're in are unmistakeable! But why would they be showing up at her door like this? They've really got nothing to hide – no contraband or anything like that, unless Chloe had sneakily planted some marijuana on her and then tipped off the closest patrol, but that seems unlikely. Even though technically it's still in the process of getting legalized, police officers around here are typically pretty laid-back on that kind of thing. Either that, or they're just lazy as fuck and dumb as a stump. Clem isn't sure which.

Could it be Lee that they're after? Has he done something that would taint Clementine's near-perfect image of him?

Or maybe it's…

"So," Lee begins, coming back slowly with a trio of mugs that he scrambled together from the cupboard; the steam billowing from the top as he sets them down on the table, "what can I do for you guys? Like I said before, I didn't really know him that well. Just one of the guys who worked down at the auto shop."

"When you were there, did he ever say anything to you? Any peculiar behaviours or indications that he might've been in trouble?"

"We never really spoke, honestly. He didn't really seem like he wanted to be there, but other than that I don't know much."

"What about the other two men? Luke? Nick? How well do you know them?" the first officer she sees, a kindly yet stern looking fellow with balding hair and wrinkled skin, asks. In the seat next to him sits an average-built, younger man with his arms folded across his chest, although Clementine gets the feeling that he's a bit new to the job. The way he's holding himself up marks him as someone trying to hard to impress his superiors, and trying to do everything far too much by the book. Sometimes you need to keep some of the human aspect with you instead of just being the robotic, law-abiding citizen.

Appalled, Lee frowns and folds his arms crossly as well. "Seriously? You think they…?" he stutters, shaking his head at the mere suggestion of such a thing. "No, there's absolutely no way. I taught those two knuckleheads myself – they're good kids, and I'm more than willing to vouch for them if that's what this is about."

"You seem a little quick to defend them," the second officer suspiciously asks, but Lee doesn't take the bait. Instead, much to her horror, Lee finds his saving grace peeping in at them from her room near the top of the stairs. He waves her over and calls out her name, causing the two officers to turn around and face her direction. "Clem!" he hollers, inviting her over as she subconsciously curses his name. "Sweet pea, there's a whole cupboard full of cereal, bagels, things like that. Oh, and help yourself to some of the waffles if you'd prefer those. They're kind of buried in the back of the freezer."

Rolling her eyes when none of them are looking, Clementine knows exactly what the guy's doing. Stalling – she's tried to do it too a thousand times before, but never in front of a couple of police officers. That would be a new one.

"Thanks…" she replies softly, making sure not to make eye contact with the two strangers as she preoccupies herself with pouring a bowl of cereal. She still thinks that anything with the word "bran" in the name ends up tasting like cardboard, but right now she can't care less. All she needs to do is get away from the police.

Because this entire time, she's been starting to clue in to what they might be doing out in the neighbourhood.

"Maybe you could give us some insight here, ma'am. Luke and Nick said that you know them fairly well," the younger cop inquires as Clem's body tenses up. "We've been looking for a man – fairly tall, average build, dirty blonde hair and a scruffy beard. Owned an RV that we found outside a local junkyard. Did you happen to know Frank Bowers?"

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

"Hey now, come on. Don't drag her into this – she's just a kid," Lee defends, making Clementine grin slightly in appreciation when she doesn't answer right away. "She just moved here a little while ago, anyways! How would she know where to look? Or even who it is you're talking about?"

_Bless your soul, Lee, _Clementine internally praises. Even though technically he did just drag her into this mess, he didn't do it on purpose, she's sure. There's nobody around that she'd rather have in her corner.

Ignoring Lee's concerns, the cop probes on as if he hadn't even heard him at all. "Sorry to trouble you, but we need all the info we can spare. Every little bit adds up – Frank's been missing for about a week now," he explains as Clementine is forced to turn around. So much for taking the cereal and racing back up the staircase.

"…never heard of him," she fibs, watching in horror as the younger officer stares her down suspiciously. Lee doesn't approve, but right now there isn't a whole lot that he can do to avert the situation. "Sorry. I only know Luke and Nick from seeing them around town. I didn't know that someone got killed around here – that's pretty scary."

The man's accusatory frown actually grows _deeper, _if that was even possible, as leans forward with his arms crossed across his chest.

"We never said he got killed."

_Oh fuck, no, _Clementine dreads, feeling her stomach bubble in anxiety as she accidentally drops the bowl onto the floor; spilling its contents everywhere. Thankfully she hadn't poured the milk yet, but Clem's looking as pasty as a satin sheet. Doesn't help when the very same officer comes over to help her clean up the mess, obviously trying to get a read on what the girl might be hiding.

"_Sigh_… Dan, don't be paranoid. You're scaring her… hell, you're scaring _me_ too."

"Greg, not now."

"Don't forget, boy – you're still on your probationary period. Everything you do gets recorded by me," Greg (the nice policeman, Clementine discovers) warns, but easing the tension over a little bit later as he turns his gaze towards Clementine again. "Don't mind Dan, Clementine. He's new. Hasn't really been neutered yet by the position."

"Hmph," Dan grunts, relenting.

Shaking his head with a laugh, Dan continues, seeing that Lee is about five seconds away from just kicking the both of them out of the house. "Thanks for being patient, Clementine. We're just trying to find this man, that's all. Too many people in Arcadia Bay have wound up missing or worse in the past few months. Everyone's been on edge."

"…yeah…" Clementine weakly replies, dumping her bowl into the sink after all of the pieces have been picked up and telling them that she's going to use the washroom. Thinking nothing of it, the police continue their little chat with a disgruntled Lee as Clem quickly shuts the door behind her.

_Frank?! Are you friggin' kidding me?! _she screams inside of her head, nearly pulling her hair out as she takes a few deep breaths. _Okay… just chill, Clem. This wasn't you, and it wasn't your fault. You didn't pull the trigger, and Max had no other choice. It was total self defense… and you have just lied about seeing any of it. Great._

Not wanting to risk anything, and having no desire to go back out into the kitchen for fear of them being there, the best course of action that Clem sees is to (begrudgingly, especially considering her mixed feelings towards the pair right now) find Max and Chloe so that she can warn them about what just happened. A simple text message might suffice, but right now she's a little too freaked out to even type out a straight sentence together. No, they need to hear something this important for themselves so that they'll fully appreciate and understand what's at stake here.

Besides, now that she's withheld evidence to a pair of Arcadia Bay police officers, she's just as guilty by association as they are. Obstruction of justice, she's pretty sure it's called. And there's no way she's going to prison – not for something that she didn't even do.

Deciding that the only logical thing right now would be to find a way out, she climbs on top of the toilet seat and undoes the latches securing the window in place. She cringes hard as she accidentally knocks over an old picture frame that was hanging close by, she assures Lee that she's fine as he knocks on the door.

"You sure?"

"Yeah! No worries!"

Once she's satisfied that he's left towards the hallway, no doubt talking to the officers again as they grill him further for information, she pulls the glass window all the way up and uses her upper body strength to swing her way out; crashing to the grass at the side of the house as Lee calls out towards her again. Not giving a response this time, she grits her teeth and curses herself for putting her guardian in this position. This isn't fair, it isn't right. Now he has to fend for himself against the police who are no doubt wondering what the hell she's doing in the bathroom making such a ruckus.

She feels vulnerable somehow without her ball cap, having left it on her dresser drawer by mistake, but there's no time for her to go back inside and grab it. How would she ever explain hopping out of her own window?

"Fuck… why didn't I just say that I was going to school? Stupid…" she mutters, starting at a brisk run into the neighbour's backyard before continuing to hop some fences. She knows the forest behind them now like the back of her hand after going through it almost every day since she had arrived, and now it seems that they're going to have to be her lifeline.

Knowing that she had actually left her phone in the front pocket of her jeans, Clementine sighs and hops over a log; nearly doing a face-plant in the mud as she tries to keep her nerves down.

Deep down, she realizes that she just fucked up big time.


	13. Tensions

The smell flowing in from in between the cracks in Chloe's doorway, wafting through the air and into Max's nostrils, is just too amazing to ignore. It captivates her senses and causes her body to melt into a puddle just from _thinking _about how good that breakfast must be. Her eyes close in delight as she finishes buttoning up Rachel's flannel sweater, feeling the woolen texture comfort her arms with its warmth. Pancakes? Fuckin' A, those should be used to replace smelling salts for those trapped in a coma. Works _way _better.

Unbeknownst to her, partly because she had been in dreamland with no recollection of what happened after her head hit the pillow, but Chloe had been watching her sleep at various points throughout the night. It had been a little weird in Chloe's mind, but… not like, _stalker _weird. It was weird because she didn't really know _why _she was doing it. Sleep definitely hadn't come easy for her, but seeing her best friend laying there beside her, eyes closed loosely as a few small snores escaped her lips, Chloe felt mostly content.

As Max wonders if she should roll up the sleeves of the jacket or not, she spots the only evidence of Chloe having been out of bed earlier in the night – a small dish from the kitchen sitting on the windowsill, being used as some sort of temporary ashtray. Thankfully, she had had the decency to crack the window open a little bit so that the fumes wouldn't linger inside, but it kind of makes Max disappointed. They've both changed so much since they were kids. The days of jumping on the couch cushions, dressed up as pirates sailing the open seas for signs of their precious loot, are long gone. Max barely recognizes her old best friend sometimes.

Neither does she really recognize herself, as the time-travelling trickster looks over in the closet mirror and decides to leave the sleeves down. She's never really been terribly self-conscious about her looks, but standing there, glancing over her reflection in somebody else's house, somebody else's clothes… It doesn't really feel like her, or who she really is.

Sighing as she swipes a loose strand of hair out of her face, Max tries to convince herself that she's just turning over a new leaf, and trying to brush past her comfort zone for a change. Certainly couldn't hurt to switch up her style for once. "Ready for the mosh pit, shaka brah!" she announces with a smirk, closing the closet and turning the doorknob to head downstairs. Breakfast awaits….

* * *

"Ya know," Joyce mentions, her eyes still glued to the stove as she flips the finished piece of batter from the frying pan and onto a flower-engraved plate, "pacing around like that ain't good for ya, Dave. You're gonna tear a hole in the floor at this rate."

David Madsen, AKA "Step-douche" according to one person in particular, can barely find the energy within himself to respond to that. Although wide awake, he feels as though his eyes could become glued shut at any second, what with all the ruckus he discovered last night. Despite getting called in at around three in the morning, though, he's not really pissed off about it any way. More so, it's had to do with recent events, and the staggering amount of troublemakers that seem to have been infesting the school these past few weeks.

Not hearing a reply, Joyce turns around with a small frown sketched onto her face. Serving food like this now almost comes as naturally to her as breathing, but figuring out people… that's something else entirely. "Eat," she commands, sliding a plate in front of her husband who looks at it without a flicker of emotion. "_Tch_… c'mon now, hon, you did all you could last night. Sometimes kids get into things that they're not supposed to – it's what they do. Ain't nothin' gonna change that. Besides," she continues, taking the newspaper and sighing as she spots the expired bill on the fridge; long past due and held down loosely by a magnet, "from what you've told me, nothing was stolen, and nobody got hurt. That's a fact."

Sighing deeply and nearly doing a face-plant into the pancake as he holds his head in his hands, David glances up at Joyce and shakes his head. "That's the third call I've gotten this week," he tells her as Joyce eats a piece of her meal. "_Three_, Joyce. One was for two boneheads picking a fight, last night's was for breaking and entering, and then that girl on the roof…" he cuts himself off, shuddering as he feels Joyce reach over the table to grab his hand comfortingly. That helps to put him at ease a little bit, but not enough to completely quell his anxiety. "If I can't even keep the hallways safe from stuff like that, then how am I supposed to do my job? What's gonna happen if one of these days it's more than just a broken collarbone from one of the kids?"

With the stove still running, heightened by the sizzle and pop of another pancake as it fries in the pan, Joyce continues to try her best in making the situation seem less desperate. She knows that the guy's been through hell, has seen the worst kinds of horrors imaginable before his departure from the armed forces. David's adjustment back to civilian life hasn't been an easy one, and trying to put up with a bunch of high school teenagers has severely clashed with the respect he dished out to his superior officers, but Joyce can respect that he's _trying_. For himself, and for the family that he was lucky enough to stumble into when he wasn't looking. Seeing Joyce working at that diner that day… it changed him a little bit, inside. Made him a bit less rough around the edges. He'd made some mistakes in his life before, and he regretted them deeply… but marrying that woman wasn't one of them, and neither was coming into his step daughter's life, either. He swears up and down that he's been trying his best, and Joyce can understand that although they've butted heads on more than one occasion, deep down he really, truly cares about her.

Chloe, currently hovering about the couch in the living room and keeping to herself, has some other ideas about that. Madsen? _Caring? _Pfft, yeah, sure! Oh he cares, alright! Cares about ratting on her and chewing her out for something every single minute of the day! He can talk a big game all he wants, and claim that he's just "in recovery" from whatever military stint he had squirmed his way out of.

But the truth of the matter is, at least to Chloe, that he only went after her mom for her looks. He didn't give two shits about what she thought, and Joyce certainly didn't seem to care about her dad… her _real _dad, not this asshole pretender. If she did, then… well…

Digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand, Chloe bites her lip for having some of these thoughts. No, it would definitely not be cool to just shit all over her mom's happiness like that, not after everything that went down. But… would it really have been that hard for Joyce to listen to what she had to say? Chloe admitted over the years that she could be a bit of a little shit when it came to her mother, and probably had said some things that only put a wedge in between their relationship – alongside the several wedges that were already there.

But she remembers – oh fuck yeah, she remembers – sitting at the dinner table with her mother and explicitly telling her that she deserved better. The _both _of them did, and until somebody else who was actually kind of a decent human being came around, then she'd be more than willing to wait it out.

Apparently, her mom _wasn't_.

Rolling her eyes as she hears Joyce tell him that she loves him, Chloe makes a gagging sound and hangs upside down on the couch; wondering what the hell is taking Max so long to get ready. The girl can't wait soon enough to bust out of this joint and hit the road, putting some distance between herself and the house for a day of investigating. Blackwell sure as shit had its fair share of secrets, most of them conveniently within the computer of one Principal Ray Wells. She'd tangoed with the oblivious, bald-headed man during her time at the school, and although she found it to be pretty easy to rattle the man's chains every now and again, Chloe had never really thought the guy was a dick. That had always been surprising to her, given the school's reputation for having students who were even douchier than regular high schoolers. Now, though? Her suspicions have gotten as high as she usually gets with a bong on a Saturday night.

Getting bored with nothing but the conversation in the kitchen and a few old magazines on the coffee table to keep her company, Chloe pulls out her phone, puts on a pair of ear buds and listens to some tunes. Her chill-out playlist is usually what she prefers when she's all alone and in especially dark spirits, but the lyrics usually help her to relax even on a normal day. Tapping her foot to the beat as her beanie nearly falls off from hanging upside down, Chloe feels the blood rushing to her head as she checks her messages.

Nope… Nada… About a dozen old ones from Max… One that she sent to Kate but (expectedly) never got a reply from…

Chloe definitely wasn't the most popular girl in the school when she was there, but at Blackwell, she certainly wasn't a social outcast, either. Her small circle of skater friends, a few of the dorks and Rachel were all she really needed around there; all she really cared for.

Well, everyone except…

Placing her hands on Chloe's knees and leaning over the couch, Max cocks her head to the side and grins as her blue-haired friend scrolls down with her fingers. "So, which boy is it this time, hmm?" she asks when the girl finally unplugs herself from the digital world.

Holding her hands out for a pick-up, Max obliges and pulls her up and over the side of the couch; her fingers intertwining with Chloe's for a little longer than necessary. "Ha! Chasing tail is your department, Super Max," she proclaims, folding out the creases in her leather jacket before heading towards the door. "Quietly, 'kay? I don't think they know you're here…"

"So no pancakes then?"

"Dude, we'll grab something at the Two Whales. If not, we can just pick something else up on the way, I dunno," she shrugs dismissively, tiptoeing out into the hallway until they get to the entrance of the kitchen. Just before she gets there, however, Chloe stops for a second; confusing Max as she keeps looking as though she's seen a ghost.

Apparently not having noticed it at first, Chloe can't help but see Max… as Rachel. She'd be damned if it wasn't almost a carbon fucking copy of the girl standing in front of her right now, before her very eyes. Those clothes are enough to send shivers down her spine.

"Umm… hey. You cool to head out today? I mean, we could always just do something else," Max suggests in that soft, nurturing yet awkward as hell way of hers. But right now, in Chloe's eyes, it's not Max standing there. It's Rachel, with her long, blonde hair swaying behind her as she raises a hand to her forehead. "Yeah, we should definitely just take it easy today. Why don't you come on down to the dorm today? I know technically I'm still suspended and all, but I doubt they'd care if… oh, hi Joyce…"

Snapped out of her illusion, Chloe sucks in a breath before brushing past Max and her mother, heading straight to the door and waiting for her friend to tag along; keys in hand. Joyce, sighing as she seems to get the message, turns to Max with a bright grin. "Well now ain't this a surprise? I didn't expect to see you here this morning, sweetheart," she mentions, placing a hand on said girl's shoulder as Max smiles in embarrassment. "You kids must be starvin', though. Why don't you come on over, and I'll get you some pancakes? Free food doesn't come every day, you know."

Looking between Chloe and her mom almost a dozen times, Max shrugs her shoulders and tries to avoid eye contact with David, who's quietly stewing over a mug of coffee at the kitchen table. Clearly, she wasn't supposed to come around anymore. "It's, uhh… yeah, we had a bit of a late night. Chloe said I could crash, so… thank you," she tells her, with David raising an eyebrow at that response. Late night, hmm?

Taking that as a 'yes', Joyce heads back into the kitchen (much to Chloe's annoyance, as she leans against the door and folds her arms together) and returns with a plate of syrup-covered, delicious goodness, and Max practically drools at the sight of the stacks.

"Chloe, c'mon… quit pouting over there all by your lonesome," Joyce lightly scolds, beckoning for the both of them to sit down despite her daughter's look of protest. Max, shrugging as she stands there, not really knowing what she should do. As soon as Joyce turns her back, however, Chloe steals her chance and practically drags her friend out the door; nodding a curt goodbye as the girls feel the fresh, morning air upon their skin.

"Guess we're eating on the road, then," Max trails off, hopping into the back seat as she offers her fork over to Chloe. "So, I'm still in the doghouse at Blackwell, but if you want we could – "

"I'm thinking we should be on the down-low until your suspension's up, yeah? Especially after last night," Chloe intervenes, tossing her phone onto the dashboard and closing the door behind her. Turning on the ignition, the truck putters to life as they take off down the road.

"Umm… yeah. R-right…"

Noticing the girl's hesitation, and absolutely HATING it when shit gets too uncomfortable between the two of them, Chloe takes a scoop out of the pancake as she drives with one hand. "Look, I dunno what's going down between you and Clementine, but whatever that shit was last night? Doesn't mean jack now. I don't think I even wanna know," she tells her, more to reassure herself than Max at this point. Surprised at this sudden revelation, Max waits for her to continue. "What's important is that we keep our eyes on the prize – those eggheads knew about Rachel."

Widening her eyes at this, Max feels a twang of guilt as she just remembers what exactly they were looking for yesterday. An evening out living like a couple of burglars had shaken her up, but it's what happened once they got inside the office that really had her spooked.

As Max asks if she's being serious or not, Chloe glances over with confusion. "Earth to Max? You were there with me last night, duh!" she mentions as if the girl's just grown a second head. "Point is, there was some shit in there that they were hiding from the rest of us – stuff they didn't want us to know about. I took some pics of the writing crap on my phone, take a look."

"You mean documents?" Max inquires with a smirk, only growing wider when Chloe snorts and rolls her eyes.

"Okay then, Stephen Hawking. You know, not everyone's a grammar Nazi like you," she cites, telling her the four-digit password as Max starts to scroll through an endless maze of tattoo designs and piercings. When thrown a questioning look her way, Chloe simply shrugs and turns left at the stop sign. "Might do a few more somewhere else," she says nonchalantly, with Max not wanting to know exactly where she'd be getting yet another tattoo. Possibly the other arm too, sure, but Max has an inkling that Chloe would go for the leg. Maybe a blue butterfly this time, like that one she saw when…

"_I'm so sick of people trying to CONTROL ME!"_

"_Get that gun away from me, you psycho!"_

"…and all that BS. So anyways," Chloe mutters, with Max nearly smacking herself for zoning out like that. Sometimes she really wonders when the hell she's gonna finally get her head out of the clouds and back down to earth. "That's where I think she might be. I mean, Seattle's not _that _far away, right? And it wouldn't hurt to look."

"Seattle?" Max repeats in disbelief, laying her head back and running a hand through her hair. "Chloe, I know that finding Rachel is important to you, I get that. I really do. But do you really think that driving all the way to Seattle is the way to do it? I mean, what happens if we find out she's – "

"Wait a minute, hold up. This is the first and only fucking lead I've had since she disappeared, and now you're just gonna _bail _on me?!" Chloe insinuates with a scowl, one that causes Max to quickly backtrack before this spirals out of control.

"That's not what I meant, Chl-"

"Everyone always tells me I'm just a fucking pothead with no goals in life, but if I have to do this alone then so be it. I'm not just gonna sit here and mope while Rachel is still – "

"CHLOE!" Max fiercely interrupts, unleashing her annoyance onto Chloe as her eyes go as big as saucers. The interior of the truck is silent for the moment as the two of them stop at the traffic light, and when Max finally takes a chill pill, she starts up again. "I'm looking at this paper right now, and I don't see anything on here that could even remotely tie Rachel to Seattle. The only thing on here is that the department who signed at the bottom was from Seattle – that's it," she mentions wearily, not wanting to get the teen's hopes up in case this all goes to shit. "We'll figure this out as soon as we can, okay? We'll do it together, I promise. But… we need to… _connect the playas_."

Snorting a little bit at that, remembering how she herself had said the same thing to her not so long ago, Chloe composes herself and nods her head. "Yeah… you're right, okay," she whispers out, leaning her head against her hand and driving down the road with little to add. "I just… _Sigh_… I just wanna go one day, one _fucking _day, without having to go through all of this crap, you know?"

"I do, yeah."

Glancing over at her friend, Chloe nods in silent appreciation, knowing fully well that Maxine Caulfield fucking means it. She of all people would know what it's like for her to feel like they've been cast aside in their life, because she was there the day that it had actually happened. The day that her life was ripped out of her hands and fed to the wolves; the day where she got the worst phone call of her entire life.

Her dad was taken away that day. Not even a week later had Max been taken away from her, too.

_Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!_

Knowing that it's her phone getting the text message by the flashing red light in the top right corner of the device, Chloe asks Max to read it to her as she continues to drive the two of them… wherever the hell it is they're going. She doesn't really know – just that it's wherever the direction they're going in right now takes them. Burning gas is something that Chloe's become quite proficient at.

Max, having really nothing better to do than to snoop through Chloe's phone, obliges as she leans her back against the door and opens it up again. Sliding the screen to read the message, Max nearly drops the little plastic thing when she reads the contact info.

"What's up? You look spooked about something," Chloe notices, switching between keeping a careful eye on the road, and a scrutinizing one of Max.

Rubbing her hand tiredly over her face, Max's insides squirm and tighten as she reads through the message. This is the very _last _person that she had wanted to see today, and it's happening bright and early. Great, this certainly isn't going to end well. Not if she remembers what went down.

Although, judging by the urgency of the message and the various misspellings done in succession, she does feel a little bit worried.

"Turn the truck around," Max tells her, continuing before Chloe can speak. "We've got another passenger itching for a ride, but she sounds… scared. And before you ask, no, I've got no idea what it's about."

"You're the boss, Caulfield," she maintains, pulling an illegal u-turn onto the road beside them as a fellow driver honks at them in protest. The girls simply chug it along more quickly and make a right onto the next side street.

Looking her over once more, and after some careful eyeing of the outfit that she's chosen to wear today, Chloe smirks despite herself. She may have been seeing some weird, trippy-ass shit beforehand, but the more that she thinks it over, the more she's starting to like this new, more confident Max. Hell, the old version wouldn't have had the stones to try and yell like that before – it had always been Chloe who was the outgoing one. Max, meanwhile, was constantly outspoken, and the spunky teenager had always thought it was bullshit that people couldn't see Max the way that she did. They were each other's sidekicks through thick and thin, and now…

Now, she realizes with a warm feeling in her gut, that the two of them have grown up enough to know that this friendship has lasted; has persevered. And that's something that none of this, not even this stupid fucking town, can take away from them.

"You look great in that, you know," Chloe suddenly mentions with a shrug. "Still a little big for you, but you're rocking that look even more than Rachel ever did. Just, uhh…" she trails off, lacking the complimentary words to go along with it, "yeah. Just wanted to let you know."

Grinning at that, Max rubs Chloe's shoulder comfortingly – something that they both needed, but honestly had no idea at the time. That's been happening a lot lately. "We're gonna find her again, Chloe," she tells her diligently. "I promise."

"…hell yeah we are," Chloe agrees, determination set within her mind as she decides to lay on some more humour. "Still looking a bit dorky there, but whatevs. You're cute, so I think I'll have you stick around for a while."

"Gee, thanks, Chloe."

"I try."

* * *

Clementine has never ran so fast in her entire life. Practically sprinting the entire way from her house to the main road that runs mostly through the centre of Arcadia Bay, she feels as though her lungs have literally sucked in all the oxygen they can muster. Not to mention what it must look like to the people passing by her in their cars, watching as she runs like a crazy person with a terrified expression on her face.

A part of her is wondering why she's even going to all this trouble in the first place. It was stupid to hop out of that window the way she did – Clem could've just as easily waited for them to leave before heading out the front herself. And besides, what's any of this have to do with her? She wasn't the one who killed Frank Bowers, Max did, with Chloe as her accomplice. Sure, she was a firsthand witness to the crime, and she had been shown the different possibilities of what would happen if Frank hadn't been shot, but really, who were these two girls to her? Why does she even give a shit about whether or not they end up going to prison for this?

Deep down, she realizes that the answer's been staring at her in the face this entire time – there's more to this than she knows. Clem's never really believed in destiny or the universe incessantly trying to tell her something, but if the past week or so has been any indication, this has stretched well beyond normal. There has to be some kind of reason that she remains unaffected whenever time is reversed. That… that doesn't just _happen_. She wasn't born with it as far as she knows, and she sure as hell didn't know about this gift until she came over here, to Arcadia Bay; to Blackwell.

Not until she met Chloe and Max did she have any real notion that she might actually _be _somebody, and have a gift that she could really call her own. Drawing has been her true passion for years now, and back when her parents were both still alive, going to a school like Blackwell was a dream come true. A chance to pursue her goals and desires, all while getting taught within one of the best arts programs in the country? Hell yeah, and you can bet she was pumped when she had gotten her first recognition letter sent in the mail. They hadn't yet formally finalized the deal on it, but that piece of paper had made the girl happier than she had been in years.

And yet, she thinks with a grimace as she nearly barrels down an old lady after not watching where she's going, coming here, now? Blackwell doesn't feel quite as special as she had hoped it would be. The atmosphere's certainly nice, with the fall colours, Native American history and the various art set pieces put on by Mr. Jefferson all allowing for her creative juices to flow without end. But Clementine's been kind of lacking in the friends department thus far, and with all of the mysterious circumstances going on within the town… Clem hasn't really found the time or the passion for what drew her to Arcadia Bay in the first place.

_I really need to make more time for that, _she tells herself, abruptly stopping and panting to try and catch her shallow breath as she sees a real dingy, beige/brown, beaten-up looking truck coming towards her; slowing down until it comes to a complete stop on the side of the street. "You training for marathons, now?" Chloe questions as she rolls down the window, with Max mostly keeping to herself as she stares down at her lap. "Well don't just stand there, dude! Hop in! We've got some ground to cover!"

_Dammit… No back seat on this thing, _Clementine internally complains, forcing her to lodge herself into the side as she sandwiches Max in between herself and Chloe. Having to brush up shoulder to shoulder with the time-travelling teen, she just barely manages to contain her anger as she shuts the door and slides her seatbelt on.

Clem can feel the wool of her sweater itching at her arm, hear her shallow breaths escaping through her nose, see her pale reflection in the rear-view mirror. Max's guilt eats away at her face like the plague.

Max feels tense as her body hits the seat, can sense her depression creeping in like the sun as she sticks her hands in her pockets, can see her mangled, unkempt hair sticking out in different directions with her hat no longer sitting upon her head; a relic that she had once thought was glued onto her with how little she ever takes it off. Clementine's eyebrows furrow down into a nasty glare, although she hasn't spared Max a glance since she's climbed aboard.

Chloe, too focused on finding Rachel Amber, doesn't really seem to notice any of this right away. Instead, she turns on the radio and pulls off down a dirt trail leading to one of the most surreal spots in the entire town.

You could literally cut the tension in here with a hot knife, but nobody wants to bring it up. Nobody ever wants to acknowledge when things have turned sour; nobody ever wants to hold responsibility over the things they may have done or said.

_If only I could turn back time so far as to make sure she never got a cell phone in the first place, _Max internalizes, bitterly cursing herself for not just making something up to Chloe when the text had been sent her way. It might not have done a whole lot of good, but being this close to each other so soon after that night isn't exactly the way that Max wants to try and patch things up. Right now she'd have better luck getting Chloe to change her hair back to brown…

"Mind telling us why you're all freaked anyways?" Chloe asks, recalling just how many spelling and grammar mistakes there were in the message. And coming from Chloe of all people, that's saying something.

"Nothing you're gonna like," Clem warns, still regretting her choice to bail on Lee in that heat of the moment decision. She can't help but wonder what he must think of her now, or whether the police had taken him into the station for questioning after her ridiculous behaviour.

"_Tch_… You're the one who brought us out here, remember?"

"It's about Frank."

Quieting down considerably, Chloe visibly whitens a little bit as Max gulps with anxiety. They might be good at playing things off lightheartedly and managing to find a little light in the darkest situations, but they've still got consciences. And Frank's death had hit the both of them incredibly hard, not because they liked the guy, but because he, despite being a pretty big douche bag in his own right, was still a person. They had taken a man's life – Chloe for getting involved in business with him in the first place, and Max for pulling the trigger. In the eyes of the law, they were both incredibly guilty.

With the lighthouse just off in the distance, the blue-haired woman figures that if there was going to be any place for them to play it cool and try to figure things out, then it'd be right up at the top of the hill. Among the trees and hidden as a stark contrast to the salty, ocean waves down below, nobody would be spotting them. "Well that sounds fun," she sarcastically remarks. "Alright, we'll chat… but not here."

* * *

"Just head on up," Chloe waves them off, pulling the keys out of the slot and stuffing them in her front coat pocket; the little panda keychain sticking out as she moves. "I'll catch you groupies in a minute… Just gotta grab something first."

"Are you sure? I'm not so sure this is the safest place to be by yourself."

"What, you think there are aliens around here or something now?" she pipes in, snorting as Max looks on expectantly. "The only things abducting me around here would be you two boneheads, what with your existential powers and all. That's some straight up X-Files shit! Don't worry about me, get going."

_Heh, if only Scully could save me now, _Max groans, turning around only to find that Clementine's already started climbing to the top, and is already over halfway there. Outwardly, she's just fearful of any assholes who might've tailed them on the way over to this secluded area, possibly being some whackos trying to find Bigfoot after seeing the poster for it at the Two Whales. And who knows if someone might've pinned them as being directly involved with Frank's disappearance? Max wouldn't put it past anybody in this town, since it seems that most of the time they really have nothing better to do.

The truth of the matter, though…

The cold wind from the ocean chills her to the bone, but the cold stare of Clementine as she gazes off into the distance is even worse. Her moves are mechanical and calculated, as if she's taking every step with a purpose.

_Yeah, _Max bites back with a frown, _a purpose to launch me off the cliff…_

If there was anything remotely ominous about today, this would have to be the bell-ringer. Lighthouse? Check. Climbing the hill with a girl who may or may not hate her guts right now? Check, aaaaaaannnnnddd double-check. This is even too surreal for it to be a dream this time. No visions, no black-outs, no Chloe to shake her awake in that friendly yet firm way of hers.

Clementine takes one look back down the pass at Max, who's been standing there isolated for a solid minute or two, before heading up towards the bench and out of sight. It's unclear if she wants her to follow or not, but staying down here with Chloe would just cause her best friend to start asking questions that she really doesn't want to answer right now, so she summons her remaining sliver of courage and decides to just go for it. If she's going to get any answers as to why this reoccurring dream keeps striking her mind, then this might be a good place to start.

The lighthouse is certainly one of the more mysterious places within Arcadia Bay, and as Max once admitted herself, you can never escape it. Like the boats that it once drew to shore, the giant beacon of concrete would draw people here, whether it be to watch the sun set as it went over the ocean's horizon, or apparently to drink, as Max kicks over an old beer bottle that's sitting on a concrete block surrounding an abandoned campfire. She can't believe that people would leave their trash in a place this serene, but then again, she's sadly gotten pretty used to it by now. _Maybe I should join that environmental club that Alyssa's been egging me on about._

Figuring that snapping a photo of Clementine in this state would be a bad call, Max instead pulls out her analog camera and takes a picture of the lighthouse. The backdrop of the ocean, the beach and Arcadia Bay, which from this distance looks more like a dot on the land, makes this one a keeper, and she can't help but wonder if Clem has come up here before, too. From the way Max heard it, she's quite the little artist in her own right.

She's just sitting there, though. Alone, secluded on the white-picket bench, just staring off at seemingly nothing. Clementine haphazardly picks up a stone and launches it away from her, waiting for the crack as it hits a larger rock on the way down.

"Are you just going to stand there and avoid me the entire time?"

Shaking the picture to keep it somewhat in good shape, Max's nerves tingle as she places the photo into her bag for safekeeping. She hates to admit it, but right now, Clementine is nothing short of _terrifying_. Her voice isn't overbearingly furious, but there's a quiet temper that's peeling through her words that strike Max to her very soul. Away from Chloe's protection, Max is vulnerable to whatever Clementine has to say.

But she won't back down from it. She can't. That's not who she is, not who her parents raised her to be.

"I _had _wanted to talk to you…" Max half-fibs, walking closer to the edge, but making sure to keep a safe distance away. "But I just wanted… I don't know, to give you some space, I guess. Let things cool down before we chatted again."

Clementine's frown grows, but she doesn't say anything as a newspaper flies in the wind overhead. She doesn't really pay any attention to it, but Max, being the ever-curious amateur photographer that she is, snatches it in mid-air and holds it within her grasp. _"Freak Weather over Arcadia"_ the title reads, reminding her of the crazy snowfall that she had first seen at this very spot. Creepy shit.

Rolling the newspaper up and tossing it into the garbage can nearby, Max turns to see Clem looking downwards steadily. "Hey, look… if there's anything you need… anything I can do… just say the word. I know you're hurting, Clem. Just… I want to help you. Both of us do."

"…I think you've been enough help for a lifetime," Clem sighs, leaning her head back as she nearly chokes on her words. "This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. It… it shouldn't have gone down this way. This timeline…"

"I can't imagine what you're going through right now…" Max tries to console, reaching her arm halfway to try and pat her on the shoulder but then deciding against it. "And I am _sorry_. I am so god damn sorry that it's killing me inside. But… we did all we could out there. You were brave and strong, and just… a bad thing happened, but at least you _tried_."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"There wasn't anything else we could've done, Clem. Believe me, we tried every option in the book… but the only way your parents were getting out of there is if _you _had gotten killed instead."

"Then maybe you should've let him! My parents didn't deserve to die outside of some _fucking diner!_" Clementine suddenly belts out, causing Max to step back a little and stay silent. Clem's golden-coloured eyes are teary and tired, and coupled together with all of the anxiety she's been harboring over the knowledge of Frank's untimely demise, she almost feels as if her head's going to explode. "We didn't help things out there, Max… we just made it ten times worse. That bastard is _gone_, and we let him escape… _I _let him escape…"

Tilting her head to the side, Max picks out a certain word in her tirade very carefully. Uncertain of whether or not this is selfish on her part, she tries to play a softer approach and just go for it. "…we?"

"I don't blame you… that wouldn't be right. It just hurts too much," she admits, feeling so stupid for getting all worked up like this, but nonetheless being unable to help it as she sits back down. Max, taking a chance, sets herself down beside her as they watch a sailboat casually stroll by out on the clear, blue water. "I thought I was over this – feeling sorry for myself. I hate that shit. Can't stand it," she reveals, grimacing as she fidgets with the hem of her coat. "I thought I was getting over it when I got to Blackwell – it… _distracted _me, I think. I could go on and pretend that everything was fine, and that there wasn't anything wrong with me flying all the way over here; that it was just me growing up somehow."

"Hey, sorry it took so – "

Sighing, Max holds out her hand in front of her as the world starts to spin in front of them. The waves roll back, the wind floats away, and the shadows buckle as the girl bends time itself. Clementine watches it all happen silently, as if her talking while this is going on might just break her concentration, but she can't help but shake her head at how amazing this still is. It's unbelievable, how the laws of physics basically bends to her will at a moment's notice, and secretly, she takes a little pride knowing that she can watch it all happen without even feeling the effects of it herself.

Once Chloe is back down the hill at a suitable distance, continuing to root around inside the glove box for some reason, Max nods for her to keep going. Too bad her gift doesn't also come with x-ray vision, too.

Continuing on as if she wasn't disturbed, Clementine lets off a little steam, but doesn't seem to have the fervour that she did five minutes ago. "I figured out what had went down last night… pretty sure a part of me died inside, knowing what we changed," she rambles on, wanting to make it perfectly clear that she doesn't want Max to feel guilty about it. This wasn't her fault, despite her following the girl back to her home. "How did that work, anyways? You weren't supposed to be with me that night… I was asleep the first time. Alone."

Mulling it over, Max tries to rack her brain for what the answer might be, but even she is having a difficult time coming to grasps with her own power. It certainly didn't come with an instruction manual when she had realized that she could bend time.

But that first time does stick in her mind somehow… Yes… it was that vision, of what was going to happen right here.

The dreams are building on top of each other, that much is clear. Each one is like a puzzle fitting into the next one, and Max has had to try and piece them together. A few things have been pretty much a constant throughout – the lighthouse and the tornado, in particular. Those things never go away, as much as Max would like them to. The other thing, though… the more recent addition…

"Maybe…" Max trails off, her voice letting the words escape against her will, "maybe it had something to do with you…"

Almost as soon as the idea escapes her lips, Max wishes she could take it back. However, trying to reverse time would be completely hopeless – not only because it wouldn't work with Clem, but even trying to do so would likely just raise the girl's suspicions even more. _Nice going, Sherlock! Now she thinks you're even crazier than usual, _Max chides, widening her eyes as Clementine prepares to ask her what she means. However, she won't get that chance, as Chloe appears for the second time as she stands to the left of Max.

_No way in hell are you using your power this time. Once is enough for now. Not unless you want it to be nosebleed city again…_

"Hey, sorry it took so long," Chloe repeats herself, arching an eyebrow as she sees the two of them on the bench together. "Looks like I missed one hell of a group therapy session… What gives?"

"Just chatting," Max excuses, noting how her friend still doesn't seem to be expecting much. "What were you looking for down there anyway? Buried treasure?"

Grinning amusedly, Chloe gives her friend a two-finger salute before digging into her left pocket. "Aye-aye, Cap'n Caulfield. There be, umm… looty in that there truck! Golden coins as far as you can see!"

"Booty."

"Say what?"

"There be booty in the truck," Max corrects, a sly look of amusement gracing her lips as she recalls their days on "the open seas". Joyce never understood why they had to use the couch on their so-called adventures instead of just heading outside.

Snorting, Chloe sits on the ground beside them with her legs laid out in a relaxed fashion. "Can't believe _that's _what you remember," she says lightly, turning her attention over to Clementine as she remembers what brought them here in the first place. "So… Frank. You, uh… got something on him?"

The brief moment of lighthearted fun that they had is almost immediately dampened as Clementine relays what had happened. The cops, the questioning, Lee… everything up to her dipping out the window like some kind of parkour artist. She, seeming to notice that Max hasn't mentioned it yet, doesn't say a word about waking up knowing about her parents, but chooses to stress just how much Frank's disappearance is spreading throughout the town. On her way over towards their truck, Clementine had noticed several dozen missing person posters covering various poles and bulletin boards, with some of them even covering the old Rachel ones that Chloe had been distributing.

"…oh god…" Max murmurs, rubbing her face miserably with the weight of a life hovering over her tired shoulders. Nothing is going their way, it seems. The only silver lining they have is that nobody's yet figured out that Frank is actually _dead_, presumably, at least. There is always the possibility, and sooner or later, somebody would end up finding the remains.

For her part, Chloe tries not to act panicked or think too deeply into this, but the tremble in her voice says otherwise.

"Okay, okay…. W-we're still in the clear then, right? None of them asked specifically if you were there? They didn't mention any names?" she asks, pulling the beanie back out of her face as she is slightly reassured when Clem shakes her head. "Good… this is good. We've still got a chance, then. We can still keep it going."

With her head on a swivel, Max looks over with fear-laden eyes. "Maybe…" she squeaks, trying to sound braver than she feels, "maybe we should… just tell them the truth."

"Yeah, about that – how about _no fucking way?_"

"Chloe, she's just trying to – "

"It'd be easy for you to say, Clem! You're not the one who's knee-deep in this right now!" Chloe reprimands, letting out a curse as she pulls out what she's been hiding this entire time – a pistol, the same one used to kill Frank, to be exact. Max nearly falls off the bench as she waves it around carelessly. "I mean… fuck! I'm not ready to be put in the slammer! Do you know what happens to people in there?! Teens, no less?! We'd be begging them to kill us before our first week's over!"

Max is adamant that killing Frank was completely wrong, that it wasn't just self-defence, no matter what the other outcomes would've been. Nothing about shooting a man right in the chest after telling him to back off was enacted in any other way besides _intending _to have him dead.

But seeing Chloe just holding the gun right there, the same one she had stolen out of her step-dad's cabinet, without thinking about the consequences… that's just as equally stupid. "Why the hell are you still holding onto that stupid thing?! You told me that you'd take care of it!"

"And I will! Better than just leaving it at the scene of the crime! Maybe I should make it more obvious for them next time and just leave 'em a thank-you card beside his bloody corpse while we're at it!"

"That's not the point! Sooner or later, somebody's gonna see that gun and bust our asses for sure!"

"STOP IT!" Clementine intervenes, her voice a booming yell that silences the duo as they all look to make sure nobody heard that. Thankfully, being so early in the day, everybody else actually has a life and doesn't plan on dicking around at a lighthouse for this kind of adventure. Giving it a second to regain her composure, Clem makes a split-second decision and holds out her hand. "Just give it here," she commands, not taking no for an answer as Chloe looks on with skepticism. Max, meanwhile, is on another freak level entirely. "I'll take care of it… you can trust me."

Max can't look as Chloe, after a moment's hesitation, passes the weapon over to Clem, who holds it steadily in both of her hands. For some reason, the girl looks almost competent with it, as if she's had a lifetime of experience using one of these things and is really no stranger to having loaded firearms just lying about her person. Although the bullet necklace around her neck says otherwise, Chloe herself has never really had that sort of ease with them, something that Max is actually pretty grateful for. After seeing the girl get mowed down by Nathan Prescott in the bathroom, she wasn't so sure.

But this… it's like Sketchville, USA over here. Clementine has the gun, they're standing at the exact spot they always are in her vision, and Max is internally freaking the fuck out. Forget photography or chilling at the various atmospheric locations around Arcadia Bay – she's fearing for her _life _right now.

_You couldn't save them! You can't save ANYBODY!_

She almost fears that the same thing will happen, that she'll plummet down to the sharp, jagged rocks below to a watery grave at the tender age of eighteen, but after re-opening her eyes, it doesn't happen. Clementine, after clutching onto the grip and getting a good, firm clamp on it, pulls her arm back and chucks it off the side; watching it sail through the air as it drops down into the ocean below. By the time it sinks to the point where none of the girls can see it, Max releases a breath that she didn't know she was holding.

"There," Clem remarks, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"_Pfft_, I was just about to do that myself," Chloe boasts, with Max nearly having a conniption beside her. "Cool, so we're done here, then? Let's bounce. We should totally get to work on our master plan, somewhere better than here, at least. Race you back to the – "

Interrupted by a slight buzzing noise in her pocket, Chloe curiously pulls out her phone and grumbles in annoyance. "Probably Mom bitching at me for this morning…" she says lowly, typing in her password yet again as Clementine stares out at the open ocean.

She definitely doesn't have the best arm in the world, but that toss should've been decent enough that nobody will ever find it. The water should be deep enough for it to have submerged into the inky nothingness down below, but still, she's a little bit concerned. Engraved into the side of the gun were the initials "D.M.", which Clem can only assume stood for David Madsen.

Pushing these thoughts aside, and trying not to let depression eat at her core from her parents' untimely demise, Clementine walks forward with Max following slowly behind her; moving forward until they notice that Chloe can't seem to tear her eyes away from her phone.

"Chloe?" Max questions, poking her friend in the ribs when she doesn't even acknowledge them. "What's wrong?"

With her hand shaking violently, and her eyes as wide as saucers as her bottom lip starts to tremble in shock, Chloe just barely manages to choke out the words needed to tell them what's happening.

"…i-it's… her…" she says, eyes still glued to the screen as Max blinks in understanding. "It's… Rachel…"


	14. Searching

_**Contact: Unknown**_

_**Message sent at: 7:48 PM**_

_Holy shit... finally got thru!_

_I don't know where anyone is, and I'm flipping the fuck out. Chloe, pls help!_

_They said I'm in the dark room... Find me in the dark room..._

* * *

_In the dark room._

_The dark room._

_Dark room._

_Room, room, room._

"HEY! WATCH THE FUCK OUT, WOULD YA?!"

Startled out of her reverie, Chloe instinctively slams on the brakes as an older-looking feller – maybe in his late forties to fifties – glares daggers at her through the front window of her pickup. Clearly years of heavy substance abuse have taken its toll on the man's face, as deep, heavy wrinkles and gashes caress his cheekbones and heavy amounts of wear and tear have left his teeth rotten to the core. The guy looks like he just crawled out of a dumpster fire as far as Chloe's concerned, but right now all she can do is meekly mouth an apology as she waits for him to cross the road.

Rolling his eyes, the guy mutters something along the lines of "_bitch nearly tore my legs off_" before setting off on his way. It takes about three minutes before said girl can admit to herself that the resemblance to Frank is uncanny.

Her breathing is still erratic as Chloe glances over at the stupid piece of plastic resting on the passenger seat beside her, no flashing light in the corner to tell her that Rachel's actually responded to the half dozen texts she's flung her way. Late last night she had clocked herself in the head a few times to see if she was dreaming or not, but lo and behold, Rachel's first message was still there, clear as day.

So why had she not replied?

_Omigod, where r u? Christ's sakes, kid, I've been looking everywhere for you! Just tell me where to find you and I'll get you out of there!_

As soon as the light turns green, Chloe's foot mindlessly steps on the gas pedal as her toes curl at the thought of something bad happening to her other best friend. The last thing she wants is to find the girl laying helpless in a dark alley somewhere, but if Rachel were to give _anything_… anything in the world… a clue, a sign, _something_. She'd be there in an instant, no questions asked.

_Just stay cool, 'kay? I bet there's a lot of shit going down, but you've gotta gimme the deets! This rescue party's gonna be dope, but I need you to tell me where you are!_

Chloe hits the "reject call" button as a picture of her mom pops up. She doesn't mean to shut her out, especially when she's in such a vulnerable state, but she's really not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. No one but her. Nobody but Rachel.

_Fuck, did somebody take you? Is that what this is?! I swear to every motherfucking god there is, if they lay any of their grubby little hands on you…_

Flinching as she accidentally knocks the cell onto the floor of the truck, Chloe reluctantly turns her attention back to the road. Her limbs feel as though they're going to fall off at any moment from all the driving she's been doing, and her eyelids flutter in tune with the turning signal as she pulls over to the side.

Sighing deeply, Chloe shuts her eyes for a moment as she runs a hand through the streaks of blue coursing on her head. "Where've you been all this time…" she whispers, a bit of melancholy filling her brain as the trinket hanging from her mirror shakes back and forth. The skull with the feather attached to it right there? Her apparently "not-so-missing-after-all" friend had given it to her as a birthday present about a year after Max had left. She even carved something into the side of it, being the artistic type that she was… _is_.

"_Oookkaayy… what's up with the butterfly?" _she remembers asking her that day, the two of them casually chilling out at the park as the sun was going down.

Amusedly rolling her eyes, Rachel nudged her in the shoulder. _"It's supposed to be about you, dummy," _she told her with a smirk.

Chloe had dangled the thing out in front of her with confusion. _"Is this your way of telling me I look like a bug?"_

"_The butterfly effect, Chloe," _Rachel explained, looking over Chloe's shoulder and tapping the ornament with her finger. _"A change in one place can have a big impact on something else… err, I think that's how it goes," _she coolly admitted. _"But… no matter what happens, I'm gonna be there for ya. No matter what changes might come."_

She knew what that meant. Her dad had barely even been put in the ground before David Madsen had been thrown into the picture, and although nothing really came between him and her mom for a number of years, it still had hit Chloe particularly hard.

This right here had struck a chord within her. _"Wow… bit cheesy there, but…" _Chloe joked, sniggering as Rachel pouted jokingly, _"it's still pretty damn cool. Thanks, Rach."_

Chloe had never gotten rid of it. Never sold it for cash, never traded it for weed – it sat proudly on her desk for years until she had finally come of age and gotten a truck of her own. She cherished it more than almost anything else in her possession, and clutched the thing tight in her grasp when news had broken about Rachel's disappearance.

As the ornament finally comes to a stop, Chloe glances out the window and breathes deeply; the carbon dioxide fogging up her window as she suddenly narrows her gaze. Two of Blackwell's pretentious douchebags are walking along the sidewalk. Nathan Prescott has a smug, irritating look on his face as if he's just gotten away with kicking a puppy. The girl strutting alongside him - which from Max's rants Chloe can only guess is Victoria – is trying to text and chat at the same time, with pretty terrible results as she nearly faceplants into a telephone pole.

Chloe can't exactly make out what they're saying, and honestly doesn't even really care all that much given the circumstances, but she tweaks her head a little bit when the pair comes to a stop in front of an old wooden fence. Pulling what looks like a marker from out of his backpack, Nate crudely jots something down as Victoria takes a photograph of whatever the fuck it is he drew. Chloe's got half a mind to go all Spock on his ass after the bathroom incident, but waits for them to leave before cutting the engine, grabbing her cell phone and jaywalking across the street.

"Are you fucking shitting me…" she trails off, glancing down at the newest addition to the graffiti-ridden town.

Not only is the handwriting abysmal, but bashing the kid that, intentionally or not, she'd recently come to respect as a friend is pathetic in Chloe's eyes. The crude message reading "CLEM SLEEPS WITH ZOMBIES" is just about the most childish and unbearably cruel thing she's seen today, although the bar's been set pretty high with all that's been going on lately. When she can't wipe the crap off with her sleeve after seeing that it's in a permanent sharpie pen, Chloe involuntarily clenches her fist.

Punching the fence in anger, leaving a few splinters lodged into her knuckles, Chloe rifles through her pocket before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up. "Too old for this shit…" she murmurs to herself as the first puff of smoke passes out of her mouth. "Where the hell is Super Max when you need her?"

Blackwell had been a complete shitshow. As far as Chloe's concerned, it always had been. Sometimes she used to think that being a douchebag was part of the entrance procedure. The concept was kinda cool – an entire high school whose arts program hadn't been dragged out of the bottom of the barrel like a drowned rat. Growing up, she used to listen to Max go on for hours about how awesome it would be to be able to take pictures in class and _not _get into complete shit for doing it. The two of them had it all planned out – Max would hit the books, Chloe would handle the fun and try to get the shyer girl to branch out a bit more. Caulfield was hella nervous of course, but it wouldn't matter. None of it would. Max would end up leaving within a few months. Everything would unravel. There'd be nothing holding them together.

And up until the stakeout a couple nights ago, the last time Chloe had been back to that cesspool of a school was… was when she was handing out the missing persons posters all across town.

What a shitty couple of weeks those first were.

A pair of sirens go off for a split second as two police cruisers pull through the open gate a couple dozen feet from where Chloe's standing. Confused as to why they'd be in a dumpy part of the Bay like this, she wanders down the road until she spots the sign for Vinny's Garage – so weathered and torn that the "V" is hanging on by a thread.

The owner, Vince, is a decent enough guy despite the shady customers he sometimes attracts. The guy's sort of a scrap collector, gathering parts from all across Oregon and bringing them back to sell off to the highest bidder. Nothing illegal on the surface, but his associates have been able to gather some of the top-end scrap by some… _questionable _activities. Chloe's truck actually came from this place – Vince cut her a deal after showing him some wicked spots to loot at the dump by the train tracks.

"_I'm telling ya, man, it's not like that," _she hears him talking on the phone, his back turned to her as he starts walking over to his makeshift office beside an old, run-down crane. The towering piece of scrap heap has been a staple for the place for years, and neither Vince nor his workers have ever gone and torn it down. It seems fitting. "Look, just talk to her, okay? Shel will be cool with it! Why can't you?"

Chloe's about to call it quits for a while and try to make more sense of the earlier texts when out of the corner of her eye, she spots it. Wrapped from side to side with yellow police tape, the dingy, old thing is striking against the backdrop of flattened metal sheets behind it. Frank's RV is sitting a little ways away; likely impounded and under heavy investigation as Chloe drops her cigarette uselessly to the sidewalk.

_That explains the cops, _she thinks to herself, suddenly remembering the last time that she and Frank had talked before his inevitable demise at the hands of one Max Caulfield.

_That's Rachel's bracelet. Why the fuck are you wearing her bracelet?!_

_Calm yourself, alright? It was a gift._

"He couldn't have…?" she says aloud, her caffeine-deprived brain going into all sorts of dark, dreary places as to what sort of fuck-upitude might have gone down between them. Rachel had been hanging out with Frank _way _too much, and it had been tearing them apart something fierce for weeks. She hadn't really had much beef with the guy before. After all, he'd been just another drug dealer who got dealt a shitty hand in life and tossed to the side like many others before him. Now she's wishing that she had never met the guy in the first place.

Paranoia that it may very well be, Chloe darts her head back and forth between the van and Vince, who's since sat down in his spinning chair and left the door open just a crack. Poking around in a vehicle that belonged to a man she witnessed getting shot in the chest isn't one of her brightest ideas, but if there's any chance at all, Chloe's going to take it. Completely oblivious to the world around him, she capitalizes on the opportunity and sprints past the office, keeping her head down the whole time to avoid drawing suspicion. Thankfully, Vince seems to be the only one around today.

"C'mon, don't hold out on me! Not you. I've got enough on my plate today, what with the fuzz showing up and all…" he drones on, narrowly missing the spunky teen as she whizzes over to the RV. The side door is locked when she gets there, so she hoists herself up to the window and starts to drag herself inside. "Anyway, Chris needs one of those old radiators we found down by Marie's house… you know, that batty old lady with the eight cats? And oh yeah, thanks for making me go pick it up by myself, dick! You try hauling that out with all those eyes staring at you! Never again, man."

Landing with a thud on the small kitchen counter inside the vehicle, Chloe coughs and shakes off the pain of landing on her side; hoping that this place will hold some small clue as to what might've happened to Rachel… and that the police haven't already stripped the place clean.

_Find me in the dark room… The dark room…_

* * *

It's official. Lisa has to be the worst behaved plant in the entirety of existence. She'd been watered for days on end, given the best soil that a teenager on a budget could afford, and been placed in the sunniest part of the room on a shelf in the corner beside some of the graphic novels borrowed from Warren, and yet the stubborn little bugger has refused to grow. Wilted and dying, Lisa has done nothing to lift the girl's spirits and represents everything that's going wrong with the world.

Her exaggeration is truly on point today.

Sprawled out on her mattress with her arms stretched out on either side, Max groans loudly and glares at the ceiling. Lisa's just adding fuel to the fire at this point. Stupid plant with its stupid leaves and its stupid… _blech_.

Her parents, having heard about the attempted suicide at her school and worrying about their own child's wellbeing, had called her earlier that afternoon. They meant well, of course, and Max knew it, deep down in her gut. But the girl definitely wasn't in the best of moods earlier and had bitten back with a rather icy response to her mother's incessant questions of "_Are you alright?" _and _"Do you need to see a doctor? How's your head, sweetie? Please don't use that tone with me, Maxine. You know we only want what's best for you."_

Maxine. Ouch. Mother dearest had pulled out the big guns on that one.

The latest buzz with one Rachel Amber had her head in a tizzy all night long, but the crux of the problem is that Max doesn't have a clue where to go from here. It all seems a little too convenient to her. Why, after nearly a month and a half of having no suitable leads and Chloe being one of the few people to apparently give a shit in this town, would Rachel just randomly text her out of the blue? That message was cryptic as hell, and as if that's not bad enough, Chloe's been actively dodging her all day. Max has called nearly a dozen times to follow up on what happened at the lighthouse yesterday, but she's been left completely in the dark.

The sounds of Juliet yelling at somebody out in the hallway causes her to grit her teeth and bury her face in the closest pillow she can find. _Not even a _**minute**! _Can't they just…!_

"_Don't fucking lie to me, Dana! I know you did it!"_

"_What are you even talking about?! Just let me out of here, this is so stupid!"_

"_What's _stupid _is you sexting Zachary and expecting it to just slide away! *Tch*, did you honestly expect me to not find out and buy into your bullshit cover story? Yeah, okay then. You can go – straight to hell."_

"I'm seriously wishing for some earmuffs right about now," she mumbles, almost reaching for her headphones out of instinct but holding off as she reluctantly gets out of bed. No amount of wishful thinking is going to keep Juliet from doing… whatever it is she's doing out there, and Max isn't feeling well enough to put up with it today. Trudging out into the hallway, she cuts off Dana's plead for help as time slows to a crawl.

Leading the charge as Juliet rewinds back towards her room, Max takes advantage of the situation. Call it mean-spirited, but Max's brain is too overwhelmed and frustrated to really give a hoot about playing nice. For once, just once, she isn't holding back.

Having to walk ever so slowly because of all the concentration she has to do, Max finally makes it to Juliet and pulls out one of the hallway doors right in front of her face. Next, she moves the girl's hands out in front of her to lessen the impact, but snatches Juliet's phone out of her hands and gingerly lets it go; watching as it sails to a stop and hangs suspended in mid-air about a foot above the ground. The entire hallway floor is carpeted, so the screen won't dent or crack upon dropping.

_How the hell am I doing this? _she ponders for a moment, glancing at her hands as a stream of energy ripples in the air surrounding her. It's never been this easy for her to bend time, let alone have this much _control_ over it. She can feel some sort of pulse reverberating in her chest, and glances up for a moment only to see Clementine through the glass doors at the end of the hallway, seeming to finally recognize that everyone else has stood still again. Dropping the book she was reading onto her lap, Clem makes a swiping motion with her hand to tell Max to cut it out, but the girl mouths for her to wait for just a split fracture in time. There's still one more piece of business to attend to.

Nudging Dana's door open with her foot, Max catches the teen clutching on what looks to be some sort of stick with a pink plus sign on the…

_Oh boy…_ she internalizes, the voice in her head reverberating off the walls as she turns around and makes sure that the lock's not on this time. That _should _give Dana enough of an opportunity to hide or throw out the very nerve-wracking thing before Juliet catches her with it, but Max lets that, at least, go up in the clouds. The last thing she wants _or _needs is to get involved in something so… so personal.

High school drama. What're you gonna do?

Furrowing her brow as she places the back of her hand towards her upper lip, Max sighs as she comes back with more blood than usual. It makes sense, she supposes, to be having this problem after going to the next stage of her powers. But still, it's a bit unnerving to say the least. As much reading material as there is on the whole concept of time-traveling, nobody really has a clue how it could possibly work. Theories Warren had shown her on the insides of a worm hole and inter-dimensional space travel made absolutely zero sense to her, and didn't really apply to her case. Unless of course she had managed to fall into some kind of black hole in a previous life when she wasn't looking but… yeah. That seems unlikely.

The air seems to shake as Max wanders back to her room, so Max snatches up her backpack, carefully places her camera inside, slings it over her shoulder and closes the door behind her. A headache soon follows as she moves past the feuding friends, and she notices that Clementine has left the bench outside and walked away without another word.

Releasing her hold on reality, Max stumbles her way out of the dorm area as Juliet crashes into the wooden frame inside.

* * *

"Hey, if isn't Mad Max! Wanna shred? I'd offer you your own board, but you'd have to be righteously initiated first," Justin proposes, fist-pumping the girl as she smirks and watches as Trevor yet again tries to do one of his tricks near the railing. He's so sure of himself that Max feels kind of bad for taking a picture of him on the ground earlier in the week after one of his failed stunts went wrong, with pretty amusing results.

"_Nnnnaahhh_, thanks though," she drawls on, fidgeting with the strap of her bag as Justin shrugs his shoulders. Not wanting to seem like a _complete _dork, Max points with her thumb back to the building and sighs. "There's this big test coming up, and Jefferson would kill me if I came late again. You know the deal," she emphasizes as the skater boy chuckles.

"It's all good, brah, I get it. But you totally gotta stick it to that class once in a while. How would you even _have _a test on taking pics anyway?"

"You'd be surprised," she admits, feeling a lot more lightheaded after having used her powers like that earlier. Saying goodbye to the skater posse as the warning bell rings, Max heads towards the building alone, with many of the other kids following suit.

A certain ballcap-wearing teen has other plans though, apparently.

"Wanna tag along?"

Glancing up from her drawing of what looks to be a group of survivors in the apocalypse fighting off the undead in some sort of abandoned motel, Clementine arches an eyebrow as she shakes her head at the request. "Should I even ask what that was about in there?"

Smile faltering, Max awkwardly stares at the girl and takes a small step back. "Just… helping out a friend," she finishes almost with a squeak, feeling a little self-conscious about it for some reason as she brushes a stray hair out of her face.

Unconvinced, Clementine closes her scrapbook for a brief second and crosses her arms. "Hmph," she grunts in that sombre, hardened way of hers. "Who else knows about this… _thing_… you've got going?"

Confused as to where she's leading with this, Max scratches at her scalp. "You, me and Chloe."

"That's it? You're sure?"

"Yep."

"Really?"

"Geez, do you want that in writing or something? Yeah, Clem – that's it!"

"Alright then. Let's say in a hypothetical world," Clementine suggests, getting all technical as she gives out air quotations, "somebody sees or hears you trying to use this "time power". What would you do?"

Looking at her as if the girl's got something latched onto her head, Max doesn't take long to answer. "Then I'd just reverse time and start it over again. Besides, it's not as if anyone else would notice what's going on," she states, a _duh _expression crossing her lips as she spots Warren and waves as he enters the building.

Pursing her lips together, Clem frowns slightly as she remains unconvinced. Max isn't a fan of the intense interrogation she's getting from the new girl, even though _technically _she's also in the same boat in that regard. "You and I both know that's not a guaranteed thing," she suggests. "You could tense up, get nervous. I've seen you, Max. Hell, we went back in time _together_. I think I'd know better than most people."

"So you're saying I'm gonna screw up somehow, is that it?"

Backtracking from whatever it is she was about to add, noting how tense she's actually making this, Clementine sighs through her nostrils and shakes her head. "I'm saying… well, just be careful, that's all. Don't use it for things you don't have to. You know what they say about great power…"

Snorting at that, Max playfully rolls her eyes and slowly nods her head. There's no malicious intent here, that much is clear. "I'll, uh…" she hesitates, conflicting feelings about how she uses her powers preventing her from coming up with a clear answer, "I'll think about it."

Turning away from Clem's sour look before the conversation goes any further, Max heads up the steps towards Blackwell as Warren follows along like a lost, little puppy. Thinking about it is one thing, but Clementine grows slightly unnerved by the way that Max has been brushing off the laws of physics lately as if it was no big deal. It's not as simple as breathing, and in no way _should _it be.

As she turns back towards her pictures, using the side of her graphite pencil to carefully shade in the eyes of an undead creature that she's been working on, Clementine starts to get the feeling that there may be more going on than she knows, so she tries to put the pieces together.

_Max has to shoot Frank to save her friend. I witness her rewind for the very first time._

_Kate is about to jump off the roof, but is suspended in mid-air and then brought back safely until I get there to pull her down… as if by "magic". Pfft._

_After school ends, Max tries to confront me about going to the cops. Her powers have no effect on me as I start to panic._

_I end up with Max all the way back in Georgia… and I couldn't save them… no matter what I – _

With realization taking its toll, Clementine widens her eyes slightly as she slides her back down the base of the tree. One reoccurring theme stands out in each of those scenarios, and despite every logical bone in her body telling her that it's absolutely impossible, she can't help but recall the conversation that she and Max had up at the lighthouse.

"_Maybe… maybe it had something to do with you…"_

"Oh shit…" she mutters, finding herself gazing like glue to the door that Max had just gone into. Pulse racing, and a cold sweat starting to form upon her brow, Clementine considers just packing up her stuff and extending her break for the rest of the day, but with Lee out at the university, and not knowing the city bus schedule, she's forced to stick around for now and stew over the possibility that she and Max… maybe they…

"…umm, are you okay?"

Startled into a bit of a jump, Clementine quickly gathers her drawing materials and swears under her breath, knowing fully well how fazed out she must've just been looking. Once she collects herself, she glances over at a short, stocky boy with dark hair, brown-rimmed glasses and a well-meaning look of concern on his face. Clem can tell right away that he's a bit of a dork, but she's of the opinion that usually they're the best people to talk to. Many aren't fake or trying to be "cool" – they're the brave ones, being themselves at such a young age and doing what they love to do.

Clem's thinking of some less flattering thoughts right now, though.

"Oh! S-sorry… I never meant to frighten you…" the boy doles out in soft-spoken syllables. Watching as he wrings his hands together nervously, Clementine sighs and shrugs it off with a small smile, trying to cover up her own anxiety.

"No harm done," she insists as the final bell chimes out across the yard. After leaving that in the air for about ten seconds or so, Clem decides to try and cut the awkwardness. "So… I don't think we've met before, have we?"

Straightening up at that, the boy extends his hand out as Clementine chuckles and goes to shake it. "Ah, yes you're right! I'm D-Daniel, Daniel DaCosta. And your name is…?"

"Clementine."

"A pleasure," he nods, his eyes lighting up as he notices something on her lap. "Oh my – you're an aspiring artist too, it seems!" Clementine smiles shyly at that, not used to people complimenting her on one of the few things that makes her happy. "You wouldn't mind if I… that is, I mean…"

"Sure," she finishes for him, handing Daniel the scrapbook as she invites him to sit against the other side of the tree.

Clem has to look away as he skims through the pages, always having been self-conscious about her drawings and never having felt that confident enough to show them even to her own friends and family, let alone to people she barely knows. Lee has seen some here and there, and had praised her for them and encouraged her to try and branch out to other venues, but Clementine had almost instantly shot the notion down. She just isn't ready for that sort of public appeal… not that her teachers really share her hesitance. Preaching on and on about showing your talent to the world, never letting your own worries keep you from banking on your dreams…

The sentiment is nice, she supposes. Not having to worry about anything, to live in a Disney-esque world where anything is possible and all of your dreams will magically come true. Not everyone buys into the rainbow-coloured bullshit that's been forced upon them, but Clem's started to notice that they are few and far between. Most of the students here would rather turn a blind eye to what life really has to offer and stay in their fairy tale delusions than wake up and realize that not all of them are going to make it big. In fact, Clem's almost completely certain that not even ten percent of them will.

Will it stop her from doing the things she loves? No, of course not. Drawing and writing has been part of the reason she hasn't jumped off a bridge yet with all of the messed up crap that's been tearing her life to pieces. Some may call her a pessimistic asshole, sure. Clementine prefers being a realist.

"I love the backdrops you have here," Daniel says after a little bit of time has passed. Curious, as usually that's not the first thing people point out about her artwork, Clem turns her head back towards him as he critiques the pictures with a critical eye. The guy knows his stuff, she'll give him that. "That blend of light and dark really meshes well together, don't you think? The rustic motif is a little dated, and the caricatures could use some work here and there… but the setting? Amazing. It really pops, doesn't it?"

"Huh… You… you really think so?"

"Oh, most definitely! You must have a knack for people at their most vulnerable state," he goes on, all the gushing being a little overwhelming as Clem finds herself staring down at the grass, grinning in embarrassment. "Do tell me though, where did you get the inspiration from?"

Faltering slightly, Clementine gulps as she tries to prepare an answer that'll appease him. It hadn't been the only reason, but her parents' untimely deaths had definitely made her speed up the process of drawing images of surviving the apocalypse and all it represents. Death, decay, destruction… what she at first thought would send her into a depressive, downward spiral had actually given her a form of release. It was a chance for her to break out of her hellhole and put that energy to the paper, and for her to see things from a different perspective. Daniel, she can tell, would probably rather sit back and draw the things that he sees around him – capturing all of the tiny, little details that people would normally miss or ignore. Max is often the same way.

Clem, though? She'd rather view things in a different light. She's found it fascinating to wonder what life would be like if everything became unhinged; if the world as they all know it was suddenly gone. Seeing people without all of the false pretenses and fake personas – that's what she's really trying to capture.

"Well…" she stutters, itching at the back of her scalp, "…it's, umm… movies and TV shows, really. I used to watch those old cheesy re-runs of horror classics when I was a kid. Y'know… Frankenstein, Dracula, Night of the Living Dead… that kind of thing."

"Ah, I see… Zombies are kind of your thing here, then?"

"I usually call them _walkers_," she grins, glad to have met somebody just as perceptive as she is for a change, "I dunno… Just sounds cooler to me."

Mulling it over before nodding in agreement, Daniel (thankfully) goes on about his own work, talking about all of the sketches that he's done over the years. Clem's lip purses when Rachel Amber's name comes up, but Daniel sees the reaction as just another student worrying about the girl's missing person posters lodged all over town. Not wanting to go into the nitty-gritty about her adventures – or "misadventures", by some standards – with Chloe and Max, Clementine strokes his ego as she agrees to let herself be Daniel's newest "muse". The boy's harmless enough, and despite his awkward tendencies, Clem finds that she might actually be able to connect with someone that doesn't involve murder plots or police chases or Vortex club parties. She finds herself kind of drawn to the idea of having an artsy kid like herself as a friend.

Neither of them see the flash of a phone camera from the window of one of the classrooms as Daniel starts with his portrait.

* * *

_Tap…Tap…Tap…Tap…_

"Man, did you check out Nate's new ride? Seriously sick shit right there – ain't nobody around here cruising around in a Beamer without getting some serious tail…"

_Tap-Tap…Tap-Tap…Tap-Tap…_

"Okay, so we've like, got some real problems here, Taylor! This guest list is _way. Too. Huge. _We've gotta cut some people off, seriously! Vortex club parties aren't cheap, y'know."

"Lemme see… Geez, Court! Why are there so many effing _losers _on here?"

"Who should we cut loose then?"

"Evan's expendable… Warren's out, for sure… Ech! What the hell is Alyssa doing there? Off! Off! Ooh, and take Trevor off, too! That'll really grind Dana's gears, hehe… Let's see, who else… _Eenie, meenie, miney, _Max…"

"Really? I totally thought that she and Vic were like, you know, _friends _and shit."

"Victoria? And Max _fucking _Caulfield? C'mon, Courtney, don't be stupid. You know that would never happen."

"Shh… keep your voice down, idiot. Pretty sure she can hear us…"

"_Tch_, who cares? Not like she does anything but chill by herself all day, anyways…"

_Tap-tap-tap…Tap-tap-tap….Tap-tap-tap…_

"They're gonna be throwing a total banger that night, babe. Wanna come chill with me before then?"

"Good joke there, _asswipe_. The only "banger" you're used to doing is when you're with Victoria!"

"What?! C'mon babe, you know that's not true…"

"Dana told me herself, Zach! I think that I'd know when to trust my best friend! Oh, and don't _"babe" _me, dickhead! Unless you want the entire school to know how much of a cheating bastard you are, I'd suggest you stay away from me and find someone else to fool around with."

_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap…_

"Ugh…" Max finally says, accidentally snapping her pen on the desk as she tunes out most of the conversations (if you can even call them that) in the room, instead turning her glare over to the window. The idiocy among most of the hypocrites who remain in Mr. Jefferson's photography class is matched only by Victoria's smug, irritating look. She's got her cell phone out, snapping pictures of whatever it is that's causing Nate to snicker like a child over in the corner, and Max has had just about enough.

Victoria, finally giving her victim of the week a break, puts her phone back into her pocket and shakes her head. "Hero of Blackwell, my ass… Let's see how your popularity soars after this," she mutters before turning back towards her desk.

Yeah. Getting out of this right the fuck now would be a good idea. It'd be a good chance for Max to clear her head from this toxic environment.

With Mr. Jefferson still not having come back yet after telling her classmates that he had to take something, most likely a call, Max meanders out of the classroom unscathed.

Well, not exactly. Queen Victoria over there gives her a nasty look as one of the other Vortex club cronies trips her up without so much as a peep. Knowing that fighting back would just be giving the assholes what they want, Max turns the other cheek and heads outside without another word. _Sticks and stones_, she reminds herself, _sticks and sharp-as-hell stones._

Max finds the water fountain easily enough, although with the thing practically being buried underneath all of the Halloween decorations and school club flyers it's a miracle that the thing even works at all. The girl purposely avoids using the school washroom out of some paranoid, frantic belief that a similar event might happen in there as she splashes her face with the cold water. Call her crazy, but that washroom is cursed. It's about as cursed as can possibly be.

Hearing a set of footsteps echoing down the hallway, Max doesn't even need to turn around to recognize the cold, calculating voice of the person it belongs to.

"Mind telling me what you're doing out in the hallway without a pass, young lady?"

David Madsen. The guy fits the stereotypical alpha-male, straight as a board, roughneck security guard to a tee, but Max has a sneaking suspicion that he sometimes pulls off the tough-guy charade to compensate for not being a full-blown police officer. According to that one cop at the Two Whales diner, Mr. Madsen was even too hardcore for _their _standards.

Fed up with people getting in her grill today, Max wipes her face with the back of her sleeve as she turns around to David's incriminating stare. "I was just getting a drink… That's not a crime now, is it?"

"Perhaps not, but wandering the hallways without a pass is cause for a day's worth of detention. Is that what you want? Huh?"

"No, but…-"

"Not even a _day _back from your suspension and you're already causing trouble…" he mutters with discontent. It's no secret that the two of them haven't seen eye to eye, but lately the problems have just been escalating. Ever since Max had "implied" that the guy had been somehow involved with the pictures and suspicions around the school, the security guard hasn't really been much of a fan of hers. "First with Chloe, and now here, too. What's it going to take to get through you kids' heads?! If I let these things slide and watch you kids run amok around here, what do you think would happen?"

Whatever moral high ground she thinks that she's standing on starts to shake and buckle, and in a split second, Max comes back with a rather spiteful accusation.

"Tell that to Kate Marsh."

Stunned and visibly hurt at the very idea of having anything to do with Kate's suicide attempt, David opens his mouth to say something, but Max beats him to it.

"I _saw _you taking pictures of Kate, you know. Watching her every move, creeping behind corners and – "

"We went over this already. And I'd watch your tone with me, Max," he advises, frowning even deeper as he folds his arms across his chest. "I would _never _jeopardize the safety of one of the students here, including you, _and _including Kate. I was following along because I recognized the signs of depression, and I was trying to help her out."

"_Following? _Yeah, sure. More like _stalking_."

"You know, it's unappreciative little brats like you that make this job a hell of a lot har-"

"Mr. Madsen, I think that's enough for a day, don't you?"

The both of them turn their heads down the corridor to find Mark Jefferson watching the exchange with an unimpressed glance. Tapping his foot against the tile floor, he adjusts his glasses upon his nose as Max notices a cell phone lodged in his other hand.

Eyeing the teacher up and down, David briskly straightens up – likely a habit from his soldiering days – as he explains the conundrum. "One of your students, I assume?" he insinuates, never one to let down his guard while on duty. "I hope you realize that Max here was violating the school safety code and several fire hazard regulations."

Giving her a sly wink as Max smirks a little bit, Mr. Jefferson defends his pupil as he beckons for her to come over. "Quenching a thirst isn't the end of the world, David. Besides – clearly I was taking too long for her attention to kick in," he jokes, ensuring Chloe's step-dad that all is well.

Begrudgingly, David turns on his heel and heads in the opposite direction. "Never trust a man in a goatee…" he murmurs, low enough so that nobody else can hear.

Feeling a little bit flustered to be talking to the teacher like this twice within the same week, Max fidgets with one of her wrist bands as she eventually meets his gave. "…um, thanks for the save, Mr. Jefferson," she dribbles out. Sometimes she still finds it hard to believe that she has a famous photographer as a teacher, but often she sees him less as a professional and more of an inspiration. If only she could have the confidence to go as far as Jefferson expects his students to reach.

The girl's expecting Victoria to go all _Cyclops _on her and blast a laser beam through the wall with her eyes just for even _talking _to the man.

"Don't mention it. But Max… try to stay out of trouble, would you? You're already behind with that suspension and all. I don't want one of my star pupils to fall from grace," he warns, nudging his head towards the classroom. "Go on, then. Take your seat, alright? I'll be with you guys in a jiff."

Curiosity is taking a bit of a hold on the girl with that cell phone in his hand, showing that whoever he was just talking to is still on the other end of the line, but there's no way that Max is going to take an unnecessary risk by probing further. Placing her hands in her sweater pouch, she's only able to catch a few snippets of conversation as Mr. Jefferson turns away.

"…yes, I underst- ….No! Absolutely not… Just… _sigh_… go ahead with it, okay? We'll be in touch soon. Oh, and what did I say about calling me here? At my _work_, no less? …Fine, fine… Just get it done."

Max quickly darts back inside just as Mark checks over his shoulder. Whether that was one of his friends or maybe somebody more… _intimate_, she isn't certain.

…_Gah! Just butt out of this, Max. It's not important. You've got bigger fish to fry, _she reprimands, finding her seat at the back of the room as she pops open her journal. _Time to go Super Sleuth, Caulfield. Time to look for Rachel…_

* * *

Thanking her lucky stars that there weren't any sharp syringes or drug paraphernalia on the table where she landed, Chloe groans as she clutches her side in pain. The landing hadn't exactly been graceful, but if it was the only way of getting inside this tub, then she was going to take it.

Coughing as she initially falls to the floor, Chloe takes a minute to chill and catch her breath a little bit. Two break-ins, a possible murder and a cover-up… Chloe's on a fucking _roll _this week, as long as she was trying to go for teen criminal of the month. Though for all of the things she's done, the girl is constantly trying to convince herself that it's for a solid cause. Finding Rachel is at her very top priority, and if she's going to be the only fucker around that's going to give enough of a shit to at least _look_, then she'll be the Mother Theresa of Arcadia Bay.

Afterwards? The three of them leaving – her, Rachel and Max – seems like the next logical step. A trio of roadies hitting the western States, a couple of beers in their hands and nothing but miles of open highway might be just what Chloe needs to clear her head and forget that any of this had ever happened.

Assuming of course they both still wanna tag along, that is… They do, right? Yeah, they would. No way they'd abandon her again.

Pulling herself up, Chloe takes the opportunity to make sure nobody had seen her climb aboard the crap-mobile. The curtains are out covering the front windshield, and the only other windows besides the one she snuck through have been boarded up, so she sighs with relief when she doesn't spot anyone else rushing towards the RV. Getting caught breaking and entering right now would not look so good on the résumé.

With the rush of living life dangerously coursing through her veins, Chloe gets to work. With the vehicle being impounded the way it is, she figures that the cops have more than likely already combed through this place and gotten most of the valuable intel. But Chloe's willing to bet that there's something lying about that they missed, seeing's how the Arcadia Bay police could barely catch a criminal if the person shot them in the face. That, and knowing Frank at least a little bit, she assumes that the guy definitely would've stashed some things away in case somebody happened to come snooping around his place uninvited.

Chloe just hopes that it's not just pot or heroin lined up in the walls. Or a meth lab. Too much baggage with that kind of thing. She doesn't want to find that the guy turned out to be the Heisenberg of Arcadia Bay.

Five minutes of checking through cupboards and drawers produces nothing, and the only thing of even substantial importance is the bowl for Frank's dog, Pompidou. Frowning as she glances at his name emblazoned in big, bold letters all around it, she feels a twang of guilt as she remembers the animal. He may have been a vicious little mutt when Frank needed him to be, but Chloe holds no ill will towards the little guy. "Hope you found a nice beach house somewhere, boy…" she whispers, placing the bowl back underneath the sink.

Sighing in frustration, Chloe holds her hands upon her head as she starts to lose hope. She really thought it would be easier than this. Scooby and the gang always used to make it look so easy back when she was a kid – find out what the problem is, start investigating, gather clues, get into some trouble, solve the mystery. Rinse and repeat, like a thousand fucking times. Although to be fair, as Chloe had grown older, she couldn't help but laugh whenever Shaggy and Scoob would end up getting the munchies, carefully disguised as needing some "Scooby Snacks".

As she leans against the counter with heavy bags under her eyes, going over in her head the millions of scenarios as to what this "dark room" might entail, she tries to ignore the growing pit of dread forming in her stomach. If Rachel were indeed perfectly fine, she would've called her best friend by now, or at least replied to her billion and a half texts already sent. She doesn't need to be some kind of genius to figure that out. And it scares the _crap _out of her.

Nothing about this is simple, because of course it fucking isn't. Ever since her dad died, things have gone from rocky to rockier for the girl. People have come and gone, but nobody ever ends up sticking around. Her mom is the exception, of course, but there've been a few times over the years where, admittedly, she just about _deserved _to be kicked out of her life, too. Chloe knows that she's been prone to push Joyce's buttons in all the wrong places and at the worst times imaginable, but Chloe's been given plenty of ammunition over the years.

What's the saying? You always hurt the ones you love?

A few stray tears stray down her face as she irritably rubs them away. Just thinking of all this shit is giving her a migraine, and her brain can't handle the emotional overload that's been attacking her on a consistent basis this week. Had she known that Max was back in early September… had she known about Frank's involvement earlier…

_Click!_

Startled as her left ankle accidentally bumps into a false panel in the side of the RV, Chloe jumps as some sort of folder falls in a heap on the floor. Curious, she tilts her head to the side in confusion as she bends down to pick it up. This thing must've been pretty important to Frank for him to have hidden it away in such a secret location, and Chloe's interest only peaks as she turns to the first page.

"Some kind of… photo album?" she quips, wondering why a guy like Frank Bowers would be carrying something as sentimental as this on board. All Chloe ever saw was the drug-dealing, sketchy side of him, without stopping to see that he was a person just as much as the rest of them. But what could've he been taking pics of? Nature? Cars? Dogs? All three? Chloe goes to work in a hurry, eager to find out.

If Frank was a grouchy bastard in person, you would never be able to tell by some of these. Images of him as a child adorn the first few pages, with him and a smiling couple poised on either side of him standing out in particular. Frank graduated high school? From _Blackwell_, no less? She wouldn't have bet any sum of money on that wager.

Sitting down at one of the pull-out desks, stripped bare by the police most likely, Chloe can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the guy. Sure, the man was a total sketch-bag in broad daylight and a fucking vampire at night, but taking a glimpse into his life this way reveals a side to him that makes her feel almost guilty for having to act as they did. And that's even at the cost of her _own life_.

She's about to close it back up and try to get back to looking for clues, when all of a sudden she comes to an image of Frank and some other girl. All you can see is a couple holding hands, with no faces or anything to identify the pair, but one thing stands out like the motherfucking sun.

"Th-that's…!" she cuts herself off, recognizing that bracelet from anywhere as she frantically turns to the next few pages. What she sees sends a chilling tingle up her spine as she widens her eyes in anguish, but then slowly turns to anger as more and more pictures of Frank and Rachel show up. Time and time again it's the two of them, laughing in each other's arms, playing catch with the dog, making out among the stars… One picture of Rachel in a rather… _compromising _position with Frank almost makes her gag involuntarily, but she holds it in before tossing the entire photo album against the wall; making a loud _smack _as it lands. Right now though, Chloe couldn't care less if everyone and their mother heard the racket she just made.

Hot, steaming tears stain her cheeks as Chloe clenches her fists tightly. "Why… why the fuck would she do this?!" she seethes, getting more pissed off as she ponders it further. "First Dad goes and dies on me, then Max bails on me for years, my mother gloms onto step-fucker, and now THIS?! I can't believe she was banging Frank… Rachel straight up lied to my face! Why didn't she say anything?!"

With so many conflicts raging around in her mind, and unable to tell who to blame or who to feel bad for or whatever, Chloe grits her teeth and makes for the doorway; no longer caring if anyone sees her or not. What's she got left to lose, anyways? Her life? Pfft, yeah right! That died along with her dad five years ago! Her family? Oh boo-hoo! As if her home life is any better than what it's like anywhere else in this shitty excuse of a town! Her friends? Fake assholes, the lot of 'em! Never around when she needs them, and betraying her while they smile and laugh right in front of her face!

"_**FUCK EVERYONE!**_" she screeches, fully prepared to charge back to her truck, grab another of David's handguns and –

Collapsing to her knees, Chloe leans her head against the doorway and breaks down. She's got no fight left, the sizzle having burned out just a little while ago. Any sense of hope has faded away, replaced with a desperation and self-loathing so deep that she can't help but feel terrible.

_I'm such a bitch, _she criticizes, repeating a mantra over and over again that she didn't really mean what she was lashing out about. _God… I'm such a miserable, selfish bitch…_

In her blubbering state, cradling herself inside of an abandoned RV with no leads, no backup plan and, most importantly, no support, Chloe buries her face in her hands and sobs. Loudly, uncontrollably. There's nothing left for her to do, and she can't help but feel the same as she did on that fateful day at fourteen years of age – helpless, shocked into submission as she leaned into Max's side and didn't move for almost an entire day. Right now, she's never felt more alone.

She can't even see the pieces of paper that've slipped out the back of the binder and onto the floor from the tears stinging at her eyes.

* * *

"Alright, sir, for about sixty-seven miles, that'll be… fifty-four dollars and forty-five cents," the cab driver explains, turning around to face his passenger in the back seat. "So, will that be cash? Credit? Debit?"

The grizzled man stares at him for a few moments, his face one of annoyance and a bubbling anger neatly contained under a gaze that would frighten small children and make even the toughest of souls quake in their boots. Unsettled by the intimidation coming off of the guy, the driver gulps and readjusts his machine to read out a different number.

"Umm…" he stammers as his fingers shake, "…forty… forty…five?"

The passenger points his thumb down, and the driver nearly keels over when he takes that as more dangerous than simply a lower cab fare.

"Ok, ok… thirty-four."

"Nope."

"Thirty! That's reasonable enough, right?"

"Lower."

"Oh c'mon, man! I've got a family to feed!"

"Michael, is it?" the man affirms, pulling his way up in between the seats as the driver is startled back to facing the front. "Listen to me, pal. You've got a good thing going here. A steady job, freedom to come and go as you please, and from the sounds of things, a roof over your head. Most people would _kill _for something like that. I myself don't actually have that luxury at the moment."

"…I'm, uh… sorry to hear that, sir…"

"I appreciate that, Mike. I really do. So here's my proposal," he suggests, the fur line of his winter coat gliding across the cab driver's face as he freezes in place. "You're going to take this twenty right here… Hey, eyes front, Michael. Your reputation as a respectable employee is on the line here," he snaps his fingers, his grin widening when he realizes that he's got this shakedown in the bag.

Michael contorts his face as his passenger flaps the twenty dollar bill in his face, watching as the thing falls like a feather into his lap. He doesn't even dare try to use the help button on the dashboard for fear of the guy shooting or strangling him to death.

Content with the outcome, the man places his hand firmly on Michael's shoulder and pats him a couple of times. "I know you'll do the right thing here. Have a nice day, Michael."

Watching as the cab speeds away as quickly as possible, the man takes a deep, contented breath as he smells the sea breeze pulling off the salty, ocean air a couple miles down the road. The man checks his watch to see that it's about four fifty-two in the afternoon, and so, suitcase in hand, he starts to walk down the road to find the place he's supposed to be at later tonight.

A welcome sign, mostly weathered and faded after years of neglect, is the first thing to greet him as he stops to examine it up and down. "Welcome to Arcadia Bay…" he huffs, not very impressed so far as he accidentally drops his wallet to the ground in front of him. Grabbing the thing back up, the man goes to put it back into his pocket when he notices a particular item he forgot to get rid of before travelling over here.

Taking out his aviation membership card, he rips the piece of plastic in half, the name William Carver being stricken from the record as he buries it in a nearby trash can.

"Time for a clean slate," he remarks, continuing on his way as a young couple smiles in a friendly way towards him.


End file.
